


Dark Flower

by FaeriexQueen



Series: Flowers Beneath the Earth [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Captivity, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Hand Jobs, Imprisonment, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Overdosing, Romance, Slow Burn, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-01-05 13:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 229,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeriexQueen/pseuds/FaeriexQueen
Summary: “And like a lotus, Alma was dragged deep into the earth.”For years, Alma was kept hidden away.  Safe, secure - it was for his own good that he was kept in that meadow.  It was for his own protection.  But he couldn’t have been protected forever.  Not when the darkness had always been so close.  (Hades and Persephone AU)





	1. Prologue: Darkness Sown

The akuma were restless.  
  
They were there – they were there, deep down in the shadows and hidden away. Twisting. Slithering. _Writhing_. They were like monstrous nightmares tucked into the darkness of the earth. Chained down and barricaded away, the akuma clawed against the walls of their prison.   
  
Roots. Rocks. Their nails scratched as sparks of scalding energy scorched their leathery flesh, as the wall entrapping them remained as unyielding as iron.  
  
_Spark. Hiss. Scratch. Hiss._  
  
Moans and cries could be heard from the akuma. Their agonizing wails and haunting howls were never-ending, like a banshee’s eulogy that promised of death. Yearning. Longing. A need spilled from them that could only be described as _animalistic_ instinct – a primal urge to escape, and to fulfill their purpose.  
  
They were starving, and they were desperate.  
  


* * *

  
  
The sound of heels clicked against the ground, with the marble floors smooth and cold beneath each step. They were brisk, quick movements – like a swift breath of zephyr, harboring a promise of ice and snow. Fast, and unyielding. Without hesitation.  
  
Sheril was angry.  
  
Sheril walked, expression focused and gaze stony. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and unmoving. However, his eyes burned like two scorches of amber flames, scalding and dangerous even to look upon. A gorgon’s stare.  
  
_Ragged breaths. Ripped flesh. Sheril had never seen any of his family members in such a state – he had never seen any of them so pushed to their limit, twisted and torn apart like a ravaged clump of mass. It was _appalling_ – unacceptable, and unthinkable. The Noah were _strong_. They were the ones who judged, and the ones who saw punishment through, not –  
  
Another ragged breath, and Sheril’s attention was once more diverted. His eyes shifted, as they rested on the unconscious form lying on the bed, bandaged as shallow breaths escaped them. Unpleasantly, Sheril could feel something coil inside his chest, slithering around his heart and tightening its grasp like a serpent.  
  
Rage.  
  
_Rage. It was such a quiet, deadly kind that Sheril felt – not the kind that was explosive, or volatile. Instead, this rage was one that was born from _ice_. It was born from ice so cold that it could sear one at the touch, sizzling and scalding even the harshest of materials away. Stone. Iron. _Flesh._  
  
Too far. The Order had gone too far.  
  
The mere thought of them was already enough to bring a rise of bile into the back of Sheril’s throat. The Order. The new gods. The ones above – they were self-righteous, pride-induced _wretches_. Pathetic excuses for deities that should have never been granted power in the first place, and who tried to control the realms like it was their little playground. It was an infuriating notion, to the point of being laughable. Sheril knew that they held no real power. They only held innocence.  
  
_‘Innocence…’_  
  
Inhaling sharply, Sheril continued on.   
  
He walked down a corridor, before rounding a corner swiftly. The walls were of stone, and obsidian – cold to the touch, and frosted with a murky dampness. There was hardly any lighting in the halls, as they were windowless and only illuminated with the occasional flicker of a torch flame. The fires were viciously bright in comparison to their shadowy surroundings, blazing scarlet and gold that threatened to consume.  
  
Sheril hardly blinked, as he walked a bit father. Aside from the echoes of his own footsteps, the halls were eerily silent – so much, that the fall of a feather could be heard.  
  
Sheril stopped walking.  
  
Eyes sharp, he looked around. Sheril was seemingly alone, with nothing but the shadows to keep him company. However, Sheril knew better; he could feel the tickle on his spine, and the slight shift in the air.   
  
He knew that he had company.  
  
Sheril’s lips curled into a smile. “I know you’re there,” he spoke, words cool and smooth.  
  
There was no response at first. The silence remained unbroken, and the darkness lingered.   
  
After a moment, it fractured. A faint rustle could be heard, as though it were fabric gently rubbing together – a soft sound, but one that was audible nevertheless. It trickled through the silence like freshly fallen snow, barely soundless and without detection.   
  
Sheril said nothing, as he waited for whoever it was to step forward. His eyes lingered near one corner in particular that shifted into another corridor, and as he looked, Sheril noticed a shadow moving. The figure stepped forward, and details came into view: umber skin, and bright yellow eyes. Teal hair with a bowl-cut framed his face, while the remainder of the length was pulled back into a low ponytail.  
  
“Fiidora,” Sheril greeted, as the iciness in his voice thawed a hair.   
  
Fiidora leaned against the corner, posture slouched. He was dressed in loose, baggy fabric: a sleeveless tunic of gray with a belt and baggy trousers. It was a sharp contrast from the attired Sheril wore – which was darker in color, and more refined in tailoring. Sheril’s tunic was also slightly longer, with his trousers more fitted and a cloak clasped around his shoulders.  
  
Fiidora eyed Sheril, gaze eerily vibrant in the darkness. There was a strange intensity in his stare, yet his words were conversation as he spoke. “What happened?”  
  
Sheril’s smile remained in place, though there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. A hint of a dry laugh escaped him. “What happened?” Sheril questioned, as he repeated Fiidora’s own question back. A sneer seemed to hang on the tail end of his words, and Sheril’s voice was devoid of any amusement. “The _new gods_ are what happened.”  
  
The response the spat out, like bile and venom. It was acidic, but even the potency of Sheril’s tone didn’t cause Fiidora to flinch.  
  
Fiidora leaned back against the wall, shifting his body so that he was facing Sheril more directly. He rolled his head back a bit, exhaling; he sounded as though he were exasperated over something.  
  
“I haven’t seen him yet,” Fiidora mentioned, as he looked back at Sheril. “Will he die?”  
  
Sheril’s eyes flashed. A hot, glaring look burned in them for a moment, and he didn’t respond at first. But then, he took a breath, and answered Fiidora.  
  
“No. He’ll live,” Sheril spoke, knowing perfectly well just who _he_ was. Then, Sheril added distastefully, “_Barely_.”  
  
Fiidora said nothing to this, as his attention averted slightly. Although his posture remained relaxed, Fiidora’s expression shifted, and his gaze turned hard.   
  
“Kinda pathetic how it’s come to this,” Fiidora noted, before a sigh escaped him. “Chased down into the ground like rats. Who’d have thought?”  
  
Sheril’s expression remained unmoving, as his eyes burned icily. But then, his face shifted, as a smile once more slowly tugged into view.   
  
The smile was cold, and did not reach Sheril’s eyes. “It won’t always be this way,” Sheril said. “In fact, Lord Millennium already gave me permission to see that the situation is dealt with.”  
  
This immediately caught Fiidora’s attention. He looked at Sheril with intrigue, as curiosity brimmed in his words. “Yeah? What’s he having you do?”  
  
“Sending a message,” Sheril responded, this time, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. Amber flared into carnelian, and his irises shone sharply. “A very _thorough_ one.”  
  
Fiidora stared for a moment, before realization struck him. A grin stretched across his face. Fiidora then opened his mouth as he allowed for his tongue to hang out. It extended, far longer than any person’s normal tongue could be. It slithered out like a serpent, with bulbous appendages that blinked open-  
  
They were eyes.  
  
Holding his hand out, Fiidora brought it just below his tongue. An eye near the end of the tip rolled out, plummeting into his grasp as it glistening in the darkness. Fiidora retracted his tongue, before he tossed the eye to Sheril.  
  
Sheril caught the object with ease, unflinching even as his hand touched the slimy surface. His expression flickered with disgust briefly, before he looked back at Fiidora.  
  
Fiidora’s grin was unwavering. “For the messenger,” Fiidora said. “Someone might want to keep an eye on things up there…”  
  
Understanding filled Sheril, as his attention lingered on the slimed orb. “I’ll be sure to give it to them,” He said, as he wrapped his fingers around the eye. “I’m certain it could be…useful.”  
  
Fiidora’s grin only widened.  
  


* * *

  
  
Night had fallen. The sky was dark and moonless, but it was littered with stars: all silver, and glinting, like broken bits of diamonds. They gave just illumination so that the earth was not completely encompassed in darkness, casting a silvery light on the grass, trees, and blossoms – all of what nature had to offer. Meadows sprawled out in lush greenery, and ponds remained glistening in silence. It was quiet. Peaceful.  
  
Quiet. Peaceful. _Safe._  
  
Always safe.  
  
Fou looked on, as her eyes skimmed across the meadow. She was at the edge of it, just where the blossoms of crocuses and orchids faded away, dissolving into nothing but tall blades of grass. It was a sign that she was close to the border, where the fields shifted into that of the mortal domain, separated by an invisible wall that kept those within hidden away. The ones who kept the elements in a balance, with powers unthinkable to mortal minds.  
  
Spirits. Deities. Gods. The humans gave them many names. They gave them many words.  
  
Fou was no deity or god. But, she was no mortal – a creation from magic and energy at best, formed into a being with a consciousness and a purpose. In many ways, she was a servant: one who was with great loyalty, and unyielding purpose. A watchful eye. Listening ears.  
  
Somewhere, she could hear something fracture.  
  
It was faint; a small rhythm, like a crack amongst glass. The vibration was subtle, and easy to miss; however, Fou was trained to notice such things. It was a part of her purpose, and the reason her masters had created her in the first place.  
  
A frown painted her face, as her small form remained still. Pink irises continued to skim the surrounding area, as the silence of night echoed around her. As she listened, Fou noticed that even the owls and the nightingales had fallen silent.  
  
_‘There’s no noise…’_ Fou realized, as she looked around once more. The air around her seemed to have stilled, and in the distance she could only see a stretch of darkness. The stars glistened above soundlessly, and the inky sky loomed above.  
  
_Shriek._  
  
The noise slammed into Fou’s ears, echoing into her mind as though it were an alarm. Body tensing, Fou whirled around, eyes wide and alert as he sought the source of the noise. But, it was nowhere near her – it was elsewhere, farther away, but still having breached into the domain that Fou watched over.  
  
“Damn,” Fou muttered, eyes hardening. She moved, as her arms shifted from two strange, mitten-like appendages to curved blades, as they sparked and illuminated with a scalding glow.  
  
Quickly, Fou started running – back into the meadows, and toward the sound.  
  


* * *

  
  
Twi woke up suddenly. Her eyes were wide, as a wave of alarm coursed through her veins – the kind that was often induced by a nightmare, or some other terror of the mind. Twi didn’t remember having a nightmare though; her sleep had been dreamless, and dark. A place of nothingness, and eternal silence.  
  
Perhaps, that was what had frightened her.  
  
Twi sat up. Her black locks had been pulled back into a low ponytail for the night, though the front strands seemed to have fallen loose while she slept. As she brushed the strands aside, she could hear her husband in bed beside her snoring softly.  
  
Taking a breath, Twi moved so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Although she had returned to a more coherent level of consciousness, Twi could feel the remnants of whatever she had dreamt clinging to her insides like a lecherous insect. It unsettled her, though she had hardly any reason to think why.   
  
Twi shook her head, and glanced around. The bedroom was dark, with the large windows cracked open. A breath of fresh, floral-scented air trickled in along with the glittering starlight of the night sky, and Twi could hear how quiet the air was.   
  
Carefully, Twi moved to get up. Before she could fully stand, she heard her husband shift, and his sleepy voice reached her ears.  
  
“Twi?” Edgar asked, as rolled over to face her. His blonde hair stuck up messily, and his eyes were rimmed with sleep. “Twi, what are you doing awake?”  
  
Twi closed her eyes, and exhaled. She felt a small brush of guilt for having waken Edgar, and her face turned back slightly to where she was. “I’m just going to check a few things,” she said.  
  
“What? Twi, it’s the middle of the night,” Edgar reasoned, as he started to sound a little more away. Sleepily, he took Twi’s wrist as he tried to gently pull her back into bed. “Just come back to bed. You work hard enough when the sun is up.”  
  
Twi’s brow pinched together. She knew it probably seemed peculiar to Edgar; even Twi herself wasn’t sure what was prompting her to get up. There was a restless energy inside, as something simmered anxiously, and it pressed her onward.  
  
“I’ll only be a moment,” Twi reassured, as she reached to grab her night robe.   
  
Edgar sat up more, and again tugged on Twi’s wrist. “A moment with you is never a moment – you’re too thorough,” Edgar pointed out, before he gently pulled Twi back so that she wasn’t able to stand. He then rested his chin on her shoulder from behind, as he tiredly spoke. “But really, what do you need to do that can’t wait until morning?”  
  
Twi’s words caught in her throat, as the question momentarily caught her off guard. Again, she realized that she didn’t have a _concrete_ answer: only a gut feeling, which even she couldn’t explain.  
  
Taking the silence as a response in itself, Edgar sighed. “Twi, things are alright – the plants and flowers are doing well, and the humans have been fine since we started keeping watch of them more. The next harvest is already on its way to being even better than last year’s,” he said, as he hugged Twi with a gentle squeeze. “You can afford to let yourself sleep at least a _little_ soundly.”  
  
Twi exhaled, and nodded. She ran a hand over her face, skin already cool from the sweet summer air. “I know,” she finally admitted. She took another breath. “Do you think Bak is doing okay?”  
  
“Bak? I’m sure he’s fine,” Edgar reassured with a warm smile. “Honestly, Twi, you’re acting like we’re never going to see him again – he’s only training with Zuu while at the Order. And we still have Alma here. It’ll be a while before he gets to that age.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything. She knew that Edgar was right; Bak had finally come of age where he would need to train more intensely to better handle the magic that ran through their family’s veins. Alma would of course have to do the same – but he was far younger than Bak, and wouldn’t have to do so until years later.  
  
It would come soon enough.  
  
Playfully, Edgar nudged his face into the side Twi’s hair. “Okay, so come back to bed with me,” Edgar pleaded, as his lips pulled into a smile. “I want to enjoy the night with my beautiful wife.”  
  
The words were gently flirtatious, and Twi felt herself smile despite her earlier reservations. She wasn’t sure how Edgar was able to do that – to ease her so gingerly back into a state of calm. Even her unease from whatever dreamless nightmare she had seemed to have left her, with the prospect of returning to bed sounding even more inviting.  
  
“Alright,” Twi agreed, as she made a move to crawl back into bed-  
  
_Creak._  
  
The noise was sharp, and shattered the silence of the summer night. It was like iron grinding against iron, with an unpleasant shrill of a sound: blunt, heavy, _inhuman_…  
  
Both Twi and Edgar’s attention shifted, bodies growing tense and eyes alert. They had stilled for a second, as the sound registered in their ears-  
  
Quickly, the two of them rushed out of the bedroom. They ran into the hall, both quickly scanning the area for the source of the noise. However, the hall was dark, and only silence reached their ears.  
  
Edgar looked around. His normally laid-back demeanor had shifted, transitioning into something more severe as his gaze attempted to land on anything out of place. But, the shadows were still, and nothing could be seen.  
  
The air felt cold.  
  
Edgar couldn’t ignore the shift, and the way his spine turned to ice. He looked back at Twi. “Get Alma-“  
  
There was the sound of glass shattering from down the hall, which caused the silence to erupt into a cacophony. Almost immediately, a scream could be heard after – a child’s scream.  
  
Twi was the first to react, as impulse overtook her. Swiftly, she dashed down the hall, running to where the scream had come from. The door she was seeking was already ajar, and Twi tore it farther open with a force that could rival that of a summer storm. Her blue eyes flashed, and she looked around-  
  
She froze.  
  
The room was another bedroom. It was dark, with no light but that from which spilled from outside; the window panels were broken, and glass was scattered onto the ground. It glinted in the darkness, like small, sharp blades. But, even they couldn’t capture Twi’s attention, and instead her eyes latched onto the bed.  
  
A thing. It could only be described as a _thing_ that was on it – monstrous, and terrifying. It had long limbs that looked like parts of a machine, glinting of steel and iron that gleamed slate gray. The metal was like something of a skeletal frame though, with appendages clinging to it like slabs of leathered flesh, and a shell for the abdomen. It was crouched on the bed, hunched over with its legs bent like that of a grasshopper; its face was turned away from Twi, as it was focusing on the seven-year-old boy it currently had backed against the headboard, wide-eyed and afraid.  
  
_Alma.  
  
_A wave of paralysis befell Twi, as it washed over her body like a shock of cold saltwater. Her mind, her thoughts – everything stopped functioning in that moment as what could only be described as _fear _filled her. She couldn’t think about what to do or how to react. She couldn’t think about anything except this thing – this _akuma_ – was there, and it was _keeping her child hostage_.  
  
Edgar ran into the room, having just caught up to Twi. Like his wife, he also stiffened upon arriving, expression one of intense alarm as he took in the situation.   
  
No one said anything. The air was so quiet that it echoed the impression of a void: never-ending and lifeless. But Twi and Edgar couldn’t say anything, because if they did-  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted, as they flashed over to where his parents were. There was hardly any color in his cheeks, but they glistened in the darkness; he was clearly terrified, to the point of being unable to utter the faintest noise. The most the child could manage was a desperate, pleading look before his attention returned to the monster keeping him trapped on the bed.  
  
The akuma turned, and looked back at the couple. It had no eyes – just two hollow, black sockets and a wide, ugly mouth. Tauntingly, it grinned.  
  
Fast. Twi had to act fast – but she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what she or Edgar could do without spurning the akuma to attack Alma first-  
  
There was the sound of something sparking, and within a second, there was a flash of light. Within the blink of an eye, a form appeared: a small young woman, with short pink hair and strange, mitten-like appendages for hands. She charged though, moving speedily just as her hands shifted into curved blades.  
  
The akuma hissed as it caught sight of the attacker, grin shifting into a snarl. Agitated, it turned back to where Alma was before raising one of its long, spidery claws before they came down to strike-  
  
Fou attacked without delay, throwing her blade-like hands against the akuma’s body. The impact caused the akuma to fly back into the wall, with such a force that the plaster cracked.  
  
In the midst of the chaos, debris and dust flew into the air. Edgar coughed, vision momentarily obstructed. “Alma!?”  
  
Twi’s eyes scanned through the smoke frantically, as her ears heard the metal grinding of the akuma. However, her attention soon re-focused on where Alma had been on the bed. She quickly caught sight of a silhouette through the debris, and without thinking extended her hand. From the floor immediately sprung several large vines the coiled like serpents before they shot over to where Alma was, grabbing him and pulling the child back to Twi.  
  
As soon as Alma was pulled back, Twi grabbed him, the vines releasing Alma as soon as he was in Twi’s arms. “Alma!” she exclaimed, as she tried to get a better look at him. The boy was shivering though, hands clutching his face as he kept his head down-  
  
Twi stiffened. Through Alma’s fingers she could see blood trickling through.  
  
Edgar grabbed Twi’s shoulder, as he pulled her and Alma back. “This way!” he said as he urged them out of the bedroom.  
  
While they escaped, Fou was near the desecrated wall. She quickly caught sight of the akuma, just as it’s limbs swung forward, needle-like fingers readying to attack.   
  
Swiftly, Fou deflected the akuma, her own blade-like hands clashing against it. Sparks of green electricity sizzled outward like spurts of fire, and Fou gritted her teeth as she pushed the akuma back.   
  
“Damn akuma…!” she hissed, before she threw her weight against the akuma, iron heavy and fast as she slammed against the creature, this time pushing with such a force that both of their bodies hurled through the broken window. They tumbled down, through the air and down a story before crashing onto the earth, dust and debris flying about them. As this happened, something fell from the akuma – a sphere-like object, as it rolled off into a patch of grass.  
  
Not paying attention to the ball, Fou kept her focus solely on pinning the akuma. In another spark of light her blade-hands shifted, turning into spears as she pinned the akuma down against the soil.  
  
“You have some nerve breaking into my masters’ home when akuma are _forbidden from entering this territory_,” Fou seethed, eyes burning in anger as she glowered at the akuma.   
  
Despite its weakened state, the akuma grinned. Its hollow, empty eye sockets seemed to bore directly into Fou’s eyes as it spoke. “My masters sent me with a message for _your _masters,” the akuma spoke, words raspy and dry. “And they’re _very_ unhappy right now.”  
  
For glared, as she dug a spear deeper into the akuma’s chest. “We don’t care if your _masters_ are unhappy,” Fou spat. “They’re where they belong, and have no choice but to adhere to the restrictions placed on them.”  
  
The akuma laughed, sound hollow and shrill. “For now,” the akuma said, amusement dancing into its threat. “But they won’t be forever, and they’re going to make you all pay for what you did. An eye for an eye-“  
  
The akuma cut off, as its face was slashed. For had heard enough, having struck a final blow to the creature. Its flesh began to sizzle, and For tore her spear-like hand from the akuma’s chest, standing in silence as she watched the monster disintegrate.  
  
As For left the area, the sphere in the patch of grass remained. It rolled around silently, before it extended when looked like a vein, reaching outward and planting itself into the ground. It blinked.  
  
It was an eye.  
  


* * *

  
  
“How is he?”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything. Her expression was cold, and like stone, eyes glacial and scalding all at once. There was an almost eerie rigidness to her body – one born from tension, and agitation. Worry, and anger.  
  
Edgar exhaled. He watched as Twi leaned against the doorframe of their own bedroom, her attention entirely fixated on the small form lying on the bed, curled up and under the blankets. They had placed Alma there after the akuma was destroyed, not wanting the child to be left anywhere else. Besides – it wasn’t as though Twi or Edgar would be able to sleep the rest of the night.  
  
“It’ll never heal completely.”  
  
Edgar’s attention shifted, as he refocused on Twi.  
  
“The mark it left,” Twi reiterated, words frosty. “That scar will never go away.”  
  
The words caused a chill to run throughout Edgar. Even though Alma was turned away from them, he knew what Twi was talking about; the akuma had struck Alma across the face, cutting him across the bridge of his nose. It had been a nasty gash, and one that was so painful that Alma had quickly lost consciousness after. The shock hadn’t helped either, and Edgar was unwilling to think of how Alma would be when waking up. The scar on his face wouldn’t be the only mark left by the akuma.  
  
Before Edgar could comment, there was the sound of a spark from behind them. He turned, eyes landing on Fou, having just materialized in the hall. A few flickers of green light could be seen, before fading away into nothingness.  
  
Twi didn’t say anything – she didn’t even turn when Fou appeared. Because of this, Edgar spoke, eyes wary. “Is everything…?”  
  
“There are no other akuma in the vicinity. The one that came was alone,” Fou said, words brisk. There was a bitterness that seemed to be hanging on the tip of her tongue, and she added, “The boundary lines are secure-“  
  
“Are they?” Twi asked sharply. "She had turned around, eyes like two chips of ice that glinted in the darkness. “They should have_ already_ been secure.“  
  
The words were cold – so much that even Fou was a bit taken aback. However, she knew she was in no place to counter Twi; even with Fou’s watchful eye, an akuma slipping past the barrier was a grotesque error. One that Fou would not allow herself to live down.  
  
As Twi’s words hung in the air, the silence weighed heavily. Edgar glanced in between Fou and Twi, before focusing on Twi specifically. “Twi, we’ve never…had an akuma try to cross the barrier before. The Noah know the law-“  
  
“Clearly _they don’t care_,” Twi snapped, voice threatening to rise. However, she seemed to recall that Alma was asleep, and promptly quieted. Her eyes burned heatedly regardless, as she turned away again, refocusing her attention as she looked back into the bedroom.  
  
Edgar exhaled. He could feel the tension radiating from Twi, but knew better than to push her any farther. Twi wasn’t something to be trifled with when crossed.  
  
Edgar turned back to Fou. “Continue to keep watch for anything else out of the ordinary,” Edgar instructed. “We’ll send word to the Order in the morning about what happened.”  
  
Fou nodded. Her eyes flickered over to Twi once more, and her gaze fractured with penitence. But, Fou remained composed and silent, before de-materializing into green light once more.  
  
As soon as Fou was gone, Edgar returned his attention to Twi. Even turned away, he was all too aware of her anger; it was palpable, but at the same time, understandable. Edgar himself was still reeling from the incident, but hadn’t even had time to process the situation. It had happened so swiftly, and without warning…  
  
He felt tired.  
  
“Twi,” Edgar started to say. “Twi, Fou will make sure nothing else crosses that barrier-“  
  
“How did an akuma get passed her?” Twi questioned, as she whirled around so she was facing Edgar again. “That thing didn’t just cross the barrier – it came into our_ home_. _It attacked our child_.”  
  
The words were hissed scathingly – so much that it was almost difficult for Edgar to remember that the anger wasn’t exactly being directed at _him_. Not intentionally, at least. Edgar took a breath, and tried to speak again.   
  
“I know,” he reiterated, words firming. It wasn’t a tone that came naturally to him, but given the situation, Edgar was beginning to feel the weight of the situation press down upon his shoulders. “But right now, we _can’t_ do anything – not until we tell the Order first.”  
  
As Edgar said this, Twi seemed to collect herself. Her expression was still laced in abhorrence, but she had notably taken a step back otherwise, eyes again flickering back into the bedroom where Alma was still unconscious.   
  
Edgar watched, and his eyes softened. Amongst the anger, he could see the pain in Twi’s eyes – the repulsion, and guilt for what had happened. On a strangely intuitive level, Edgar already understood why.   
  
Before Edgar could vocalize anything, Twi spoke, words frosted with tension. “I don’t want them to do anything to him,” Twi said, her attention still on Alma. “I don’t want them to _think_-“  
  
She cut off, eyes tearing away even from Alma’s unconscious form. “I don’t want them to think…”  
  
Twi didn’t even have to finish the words, before Edgar understood.  
  
Walking over, Edgar took Twi. He didn’t speak at first – he only took her as he held her in a sudden embrace, ignoring the tension in her muscles as he tried to soothe her.  
  
“We’ll watch Alma,” Edgar reassured her, words quiet. “We’ll make sure he’s okay. We’ll make sure this never happens again…”  
  
As soon as Edgar spoke these words, Twi felt her muscles turn rigid, and her jaw tightened. “You know they’ll try again,” Twi spoke, words soft yet chilled. She looked back at Edgar, expression somber and gaze stony. “The Noah….they’ll try again. This wasn’t a mistake.”  
  
The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, as an iciness raced up Edgar’s spine. He exhaled, breath a bit shallow as the implication of Twi’s words sank in – one that even he couldn’t deny, as loathsome as it was.  
  
“The Noah family won’t get away with it,” Edgar said, as he still held Twi, his hand running along her back. “The Order won’t let them.”  
  
Twi remained wordless. Edgar’s words were strong, and had more resolve to them than even she would have expected – but the comfort fell short. Still in Edgar’s embrace, she shifted her attention back to Alma. Although he was now safely asleep, she couldn’t erase the ugly memory of the akuma looming over her child’s body. She couldn’t erase that fear.  
  
“No,” Twi said, words quiet. “They won’t.”  
  


* * *

  
  
The shadows stretched down the corridors, long and endless as they colored the halls black. Even the dim lighting of the torches on the walls were hardly enough to provide any light; the dark was just eternal, and a void that was never-ending. A danger to anyone foreign to those walls, and a haven to those within.  
  
Sheril walked down them, stopping just as he arrived at a pair of tall, dark wooden doors rimmed with iron. As he opened them, they creaked loudly, their weight screeching into the air. Sheril was unflinching as the sound reached his ears, and he walked into the room, the doors shutting heavily behind him.  
  
The room was dark – just as the hallways had been. It also was lit by torches, that flickered and danced silently in the darkness. They illuminated the space, and the details of the room: dark wood furniture, a table, and an unlit fireplace beside what looked to be glass doors that led to a balcony. Already, they were open, allowing for a frigid chill of air to fill the room. A breeze brushed passed Sheril, the ice in its touch sharp against his skin.   
  
Sheril wasn’t alone.  
  
He knew even before his eyes landed on them – a shadow near the fireplace, tall and looming. Sheril could barely make out their features with his own two eyes, though his memory filled in the gaps easily enough.   
  
“It’s done,” Sheril said, as he eyed the silhouette. “Our messenger was sent – I imagine we’ll be receiving a rather unpleasant response fairly soon. More than likely the Order will demand we meet with them over this.”  
  
A low chuckled escaped the figure, dry and raspy. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, as his eyes flickered over to where Sheril was. Gleaming, yellow eyes peered from behind small, circular glasses. “But I know you. You’ll know exactly what to say when that response comes.”  
  
Sheril smiled, eyes cold and unmoving. “Of course, Lord Millennium.”  
  
Sheril was met with only a wide grin that gleamed in the darkness.

* * *

  
  
He was suffering.  
  
She could see that much. That he was suffering, his flesh ripped and slashed and his body reduced to a withering clump of mass. A handsome face was now marred by pain, with skin drenched in sweat and his muscles torn. Shallow, uneven breaths spilled from him, which even in his unconscious state remained laced with the deepest agony and pain.  
  
Road stared.   
  
She continued to watch, standing there in the darkness. She didn’t blink, and her eyes brimmed with molten amber in the darkness.  
  
“You silly, silly, idiot,” she said, words quiet and low. “This is why you never get attached…”  
  
There was no response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D.Gray-Man Rare Pair Week 2019: Day One
> 
> The Lovers: Partnerships | Duality | Union | Loss of Balance | One-Sidedness | Disharmony
> 
> Welcome, welcome! It’s been a while since I posted anything, but here we are in DGM Rare Pair Week 2019, and I’m using it to kick off a new story! And yes, it’s the same rare pair I’ve been writing the last two events, so we’re featuring Tyki and Alma in this. (A slowburn with no yulma? Shocking, I know. XD)
> 
> Anyways, this is definitely another lengthy fic, that I will in no way have fully posted for Rare Pair Week (there are five days, and while I’ll be posting a chapter each day, I currently have about 21 chapters written, though it’s not yet complete). After Rare Pair Week, I’ll be falling back to normal weekly updates, depending on how much feedback this fic gets. (I probably sound like a beggar, but seriously, please comment – this is such a rare pair that I’m desperate to know anyone who likes them as well. I’m sailing a rowboat in the sea. XDDD)
> 
> There are a few things I want to comment on though. The first being that this fic is rated E/Explicit. That is because (in case you for whatever reason did not check the tags), this fic is NSFW. Normally, I don’t have NSFW in my longer fics, but this definitely goes that route. Granted, it’s not for a while, but lemons? Lemons. Lemons are a thing. 
> 
> This fic also contains a lot of darker and more mature themes than what I normally write. Again, I imagine if you’re reading this you’re already aware, but in case you missed the tags, this is your warning. This fic gets dark and angsty and smutty. (So will it have a happy ending? I’m not saying, but it’ll have an ending. There.) It’s essentially a Hades and Persephone AU, so if you’re familiar with the myth, you can likely imagine where those themes and dark elements will come in.
> 
> I really am excited to be finally sharing this story – it’s been in the works for about a year now, and I started writing it in June. It’s definitely been a bit of a challenge, but I really have enjoyed working on it. I hope you all enjoy reading it just as much!


	2. A Coin of Silver

The walls were built of stars and silver.  
  
That was what they looked like: like starlight, melded into silver and marbled beneath stone. The citadel’s interior was simple in design; however, they maintained a refinement that trickled into opulence, as the pillar capitals twisted into scroll-like patterns and swirled down elegantly. They stretched up high, columns slim as they melted into the ground, with the floor so smooth that it looked as though it were the glass surface of water.   
  
The floor gleamed, and reflected the high ceiling above: dark, lapis-colored stone with crushed flecks of gold and diamonds. An imitation of the heavens in the sky.  
  
No one could appreciate the beauty of the citadel in that moment.  
  
The hall was occupied by people. Beautifully dressed in robes and regal, they could have easily been mistaken for some kind of nobility. But, they were much more than that. No, they were the ones who _oversaw_ the nobility – who oversaw the whole lot of humanity, and watched them from afar. They were the ones humans thought a myth yet still feared. The ones the humans had named _deities._  
  
They called themselves the Order.  
  
Zuu Mei Chang was one of them. He was a short, older man with colorless hair pulled back into a ponytail, though the top of his head was bald, and with a diamond-shaped tattoo. One eye was covered by a monocle, while the other was dark, and tired – worn, just as the rest of his body appeared.  
  
Beside Zuu, was a much younger man. He was not particularly tall, though he was taller than Zuu, with pale blonde hair and light gray eyes. His features were somewhat sharp, and rather than being in an actual robe he was in a somewhat shorter tunic of white, with loose, black pants tucked into boots.  
  
The young man’s expression remained solemn, as his eyes flickered over to Zuu. He said nothing, and refocused on the rest of the attendants. “Where do you think they’re keeping it?” he asked, keeping his voice low.  
  
Zuu didn’t turn. “Close,” he answered, in a hushed volume. “Trust me, Bak – they’ll be keeping it close…”  
  
Bak frowned, and said nothing more.  
  
The atmosphere in the hall was tense. No one had started whatever meeting was about to take place yet, with any earlier whispers having hushed. There was a collective understanding of why they were there, though – an unspoken knowledge of what was to come.   
  
It lingered in the air, like a series of razor-sharp pins waiting to drop.  
  
Eventually, Renee Epstein spoke. She was striking woman, with pale hair and even paler eyes; they were like two chips of ice, frigid and cutting. A longer chiton was her attire, with a silver, silken fabric draped over her shoulders, embroidered with what appeared to be crystals on the hem.  
  
“If no one has any objection to starting this, then perhaps we should do so,” she suggested, words like a knife through the soundless air. “It’s not as though we were called here to stand around. Unless you’ve gained a sense of humor, Lvellier?”  
  
No one laughed, the comment being more cynical than not. The man the words were directed at – Malcolm Lvellier – remained stoic as he met the woman’s gaze, eyes just as hard. His sharp, dark brows pinched into a slight scowl, but Lvellier otherwise remained collected.  
  
Turning, Lvellier nodded toward three figures standing nearby. They were cloaked in red, with black masks to hide their faces. None of them uttered a sound as one walked into the center, holding up their fingers as a strange, golden mark formed in the air. Finally, the individual spoke something under their breath, before a spark of light struck the center of the circle. It sizzled, before the light began to spread, smoking as a form began to take place.  
  
An ugly screech filled the air.  
  
Bak staggered back, as the sound slammed into his ears. It was a revolting shock of noise, and Bak strained to readjust his vision from the bright light that had flashed. He blinked, as an unpleasant, stifling smoke trickled into his airway; Bak instinctively held his breath, as he looked at what creature had been summoned.  
  
Bak stilled.  
  
It was grotesque. There was no other word to describe it. Whatever it was, it looked like some humanoid imitation, sewn up with metal and claws for hands. Its head was thin, almost as though it had been squashed down so that the scalp was flattened out. A long chin protruded out, with a wide mouth filled with sharp teeth, as it salivated and screeched inhumanly.  
  
But, what was most terrifying was its eyes – or at least, the lack of them. Because there were _no_ eyes.  
  
Bak felt sick. He took a breath, as he tried to remain calm as he ignored the way his skin began to itch at the base of his neck. The last thing he needed was to be impacted by the sight of some _akuma_, let alone at a council meeting. Let alone when he was there to represent his family.   
  
Lvellier was unmoving as the akuma struggled. It was chained down though, unable to break free of its restraints; however, it still lunged at several of the attendees, shrilly screeching as it claws were outstretched.  
  
“Don’t worry – this akuma is powerless now, and it’s touch can’t contaminate anyone,” Lvellier spoke. “But you can now see just what it is we’re dealing with.”  
  
The red-cloaked guard murmured something, and once more a golden symbol appeared. There was another spark, and the akuma faded, smoking away as though it had been a mere illusion.  
  
A silence fell over the hall. Lvellier waited only a second before he continued speaking. “This is yet another one of the akuma we’ve found among the humans. They are a continuing threat, and it seems that more of them are beginning to appear.”  
  
Renee frowned, and spoke up again. “I thought that there were efforts to create barriers to protect humans – or has that not been true?”  
  
Bak’s ears perked, and wave of defensiveness immediately overtook him. It took all his willpower to keep his tone in check, though the attempt was nearly in vain. “My family has worked to create barriers since we monitor so many humans closely – however, we can’t expend _all_ our energy to cover every corner in this realm,” Bak explained. “We’ve already worked to seal off whatever openings to the Underworld we know of.”  
  
Lvellier’s eyes rested on Bak, before he responded. “Yes, and the barriers seem to be _failing_-“  
  
“The barriers are doing as they’re supposed to,” Zuu spoke, voice rising enough so others could hear. “As Bak said, we’ve already sealed off the passages to the Underworld – unless the akuma have found some new way to pass through it.”  
  
As Zuu spoke, a thoughtful look appeared in his eyes. He then made an addition to his comments. “Of course…it is the Noah who control the akuma. The other alternative would be for them to pull the akuma back, if they have found some way to breach the barriers.”  
  
Bak turned to Zuu swiftly, as shock filled his eyes. “Grandfather-“  
  
“Are you suggesting we _negotiate_ with them?” another attendee asked - this one an older gentleman with short, dark hair, and aged skin. “The Noah are contained for a reason – they can’t be trusted!”  
  
“I never said they could. But it_ is_ an option,” Zuu reiterated.  
  
Lvellier’s brow remained pinched together. “It’s unlikely the Noah would actually be cooperative on the matter. They of course are wanting to revisit the terms of our…arrangement, but as stated, they can’t be trusted,” he spoke, before his gaze flickered over to where Zuu and Bak were. “Re-evaluating and strengthening the barriers would be the most appropriate plan for the time being. If there is any flaw, it needs to be dealt with immediately. Any fault is unacceptable.”  
  
Bak’s eyes hardened, the order understood before it had even been spoken.  
  
“It’s something we can certainly do,” Zuu said. “We can send word to Twi and Edgar – they were the ones to help me with the seals originally, and should be informed of this.”  
  
Lvellier nodded. “See to it then,” he instructed. “I’d rather not have to waste any more effort of maintaining an unnecessary akuma infestation.”  
  
Zuu said nothing, and merely nodded in response.  
  
The rest of the meeting did not extend much longer, with the primary topic having already been addressed. The air was consistently strained throughout it, even when those in attendance were dismissed. Hardly anyone lingered, with everyone soon departing on their way without any further mingling, the impression of the captive akuma still lingering in the air.  
  
Bak was silent. He waited to leave until Zuu did so, with Bak accompanying the older man. As they left the hall, Bak’s eyes shifted near several pillars where two more cloaked figures could be seen – their hoods also red, and their faces concealed behind masks.  
  
Bak refocused, and waited until he and Zuu were farther out of earshot before speaking. “You weren’t…really suggesting to negotiate with the Noah, were you?”  
  
Zuu hummed contemplatively. “We should always consider every option available – even if they are roads we ourselves wouldn’t necessarily take,” he explained. He paused, as Zuu turned to Bak. “Will you be leaving the Acropolis?”  
  
Bak paused, before shaking his head. “Not – not at this time, at least. But I’m going to send a message. I can seal it before sending it to Mother and Father,” he said, before adding under his breath, “Not that it’s an ideal time…”  
  
“It never is,” Zuu said. “Be careful though – going back. I’m not sure how the akuma are bypassing the barrier.”  
  
Bak didn’t say anything, and once more, his mind flashed back to the akuma that he had just seen during the meeting. Its gruesome face burned in Bak’s memory, teeth sharp and claws outstretched. Again, an itchy patch began to form on Bak’s skin, this time making his wrists twitch in agitation.  
  
Desperately, Bak tried to ignore it – both the itch, and the memory. He was not successful with either.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The sun shone brightly, gleaming down like a beacon of warmth as the sky surrounding it remained a shockingly vibrant blue. There was hardly a cloud to be seen, with the sky as clear as it could be. A light breeze carried itself along, occasionally rippling the grass of the meadow like a gentle wave; flowers danced, with their fragrant scent released into the air.  
  
The meadow was peaceful. Picturesque. Safe.   
  
It was safe, and it was the only place that Alma had ever known.  
  
Alma looked around, his blue eyes wide as his boyish face stared outward, a thin scar stretching across the bridge of his nose. The meadows stretched along the outskirts of where he lived, just before it reached the invisible barrier that separated his world from that of the mortal one. Technically, they were almost the same; however the barrier acted as a veil, thin and opaque to those on the outside. No human would ever think to cross over it, because to them, there would be nothing present: just a vast, empty space without much to offer. All the same, the barrier would keep out threats. Danger.  
  
Safe. It was safe, and Alma knew this; he had been told this all his life. The barrier was necessary, and because of it, Alma could live his life without the threat of anything unsettling daring to trickle in.  
  
Exhaling, Alma didn’t move. He had been standing out there for a while, and had not been keeping track of how much time had passed. Alma knew he probably shouldn’t have been doing so; he was supposed to be tending to the forest, making sure the trees and flowers were all thriving beneath the warmth of summer. However, something inside had tugged at his heart, and with curious eyes he had been drawn out to the meadows as always.  
  
_‘I wonder…what it’s really like out there?’_ Alma thought, as he stared out onto the horizon. In the distance, he could see more fields and mountains – some that likely housed human settlements. But those stretched out farther than what Alma could see, and the rest of the details were left to imagination.  
  
From behind Alma, there was a spark of green light as a form appeared. But Alma was so lost in thought that he didn’t even seem to notice, his expression distant until there was a shout from behind him.  
  
“_Hey!”_  
  
Alma jumped a bit, completely startled by the voice. Whirling around, Alma released a breath when he recognized who it was – though his heart was slightly racing from the scare.   
  
“Fou – you startled me,” Alma said as he managed a sheepish smile.  
  
Fou rolled her eyes. “That’s what happens when you stare off into space like an airhead,” she said, before pointing at the ground. “And it shows – you have flowers sprouting below you like your own little personal garden.”  
  
Alma blinked, before glancing down. Sure enough, there was a whole array of crocus flowers sprouting from where his feet were.  
  
Face heating a bit in embarrassment, Alma waved his hand over the flowers. “Spread out,” he told them, causing some of the flowers to sink back into the earth, before reappearing in other parts of the meadow so they were more evenly distributed.  
  
Fou watched, hands on her hips. She looked back at Alma, eyes still tinged with a slightly disapproving look. “I thought you were supposed to be checking on the trees today – you already helped with the meadow yesterday.”  
  
Alma shrugged. “I am – er, I will,” he said, before he felt his eyes threaten to wander back to looking onto the outskirts of the meadow. Alma tried to keep his attention on Fou though, as he smiled again. “But it was really pretty out today – the sky is clear, so I wanted a better look.”  
  
Fou remained dubious. “The sky is _always_ clear. Unless things need to be watered, and your mom makes a storm,” she pointed out. “Anyways, I’m not sure why you bothered to look – there’s not much worth seeing out there.”  
  
Alma paused, and despite his earlier attempt to resist, he caved. Glancing back toward where the meadows extended into the horizon, he again found himself staring toward the mountains, eyes brimming with curiosity.   
  
“I was just wondering what it looked like out there,” Alma finally admitted, before turning back to Fou. “You know – where the mountains are.”  
  
Fou shrugged. “Nothing that impressive – just some villages and towns. Mortals are pretty dull from what I’ve seen.”  
  
Alma again remained a bit quiet. He was honestly a bit unsatisfied with Fou’s response; she was always quick to put down the mortals, and express how inconsequential they were. But, there must have been something special about them right? Otherwise, why would Alma’s family go to such lengths to keep the land flourishing and fertile?  
  
Noticing how quiet Alma had gone, Fou took the chance to change the subject. “You should get a move on and actually finish your chores – we still need to follow up from yesterday’s training session.”  
  
This caught Alma’s attention. For a while now, he had been training with Fou regarding his powers. Originally, it had been Alma’s parents who helped to teach him – but because they were so preoccupied with managing the land and vegetation, Fou had often assisted with helping Alma to grasp smaller techniques.  
  
Alma nodded. “Right,” he said, as he grinned. “I’ll get back to it then – it shouldn’t take me that long. Do you want to come with me?”  
  
Fou shrugged. “Sure.”  
  
They started back toward the edge of the forest after that, eventually crossing into the shaded area. The trees were tall, and lush; rich green foliage towered above like a canopy of emeralds, speckled with pockets of sunshine that spilled through. It caused a warm, golden glow to kiss the forest, which sparkled beautifully against the jewel-tone flowers on the earth below.  
  
Alma walked over to one tree. He placed a hand on it, as he felt the bark. It was a little damp, with moss covering it, and beneath Alma’s touch there was a slight pulsation – almost like a heartbeat. It thudded gently, and Alma closed his eyes.  
  
There was a faint glow, causing the dampness of the tree to lessen. As Alma pulled his hand back, several sprouts and flowers buds could be seen peaking out.  
  
“Now you’re just showing off,” Fou quipped, as she eyed the tree.  
  
Alma stopped, just as he made it to another tree. His cheeks flushed. “Am not,” he countered, before looking back at the first tree. “The branches were getting weakened by the moisture – one of them might have snapped if it rained.”  
  
Fou raised an eyebrow, and glanced up at the branch Alma was referring to. “Huh. You are getting better at this…”  
  
Alma beamed, the small comment of approval causing his heart to skip. “Thanks!” he chirped. “I’m thinking that maybe once I master my skills, my parents will finally let me visit the Acropolis – I know Mother is always saying I need to stay here, but it’d be nice to visit Bak, and Grandfather as well.”  
  
For a second, something flashed in Fou’s eyes – though it was fleeting, and easy to miss. She took a small breath before once more shrugging her shoulders, reaction casual and languid. “Bak comes to visit enough, doesn’t he? Even Zuu.”  
  
“But, Fou, it’s not the _same_,” Alma emphasized, as he turned his attention to her more directly. “I just…would really like to at least see it, you know? And maybe meet some of the other deities! Bak always tells me about them, but I’ve never actually met any of them. And Bak got to even go train there when he was my age…”  
  
Alma trailed off. Fou was staring at him, expression contemplative. There was even a small frown tugging at her lips, which made Alma want to cringe – he realized he must have sounded ridiculous with his rambling just then, and his shoulders slumped guiltily.   
  
“Sorry,” Alma apologized, enthusiasm dropping. “That…probably sounds really silly…”  
  
Fou remained quiet. Although she was sometimes snappish and critical, she didn’t rush to chide Alma on this occasion. If anything, there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes – small, but present all the same.   
  
Fou sighed. “You know the only reason your parents haven’t let you go is because they want you to be safe. Just because there are barriers against akuma doesn’t mean something couldn’t happen,” Fou explained. “And it does make more sense for you to stay here – you did inherit all the flower power while Bak got all of the old school sorcery. It only makes sense he was the one sent to train with Zuu.”  
  
Alma took a breath, and nodded. He knew that Fou was right; Alma _had_ been the one to end up with powers connected to plant life and nature, whereas Bak had been born with a capacity to perform intensive spells on a different spectrum. Ancient magic and sorcery – something that Alma hadn’t been gifted with. Because of this, Alma had been the obvious choice to stay there in that safe, protected domain to help look over the land, while Bak was able to go to the Acropolis: where the Order of the Gods was, and most other deities remained.  
  
Still, even with this knowledge it didn’t change the fact that Alma felt a longing to at least _see_ the Acropolis. To see it, and to meet others…  
  
When Alma didn’t respond, Fou glanced around. Noticing something, she took a slightly different approach to distracting Alma, and nudged him with a mitten-like hand.  
  
“Hey,” Fou snapped, somewhat brusquely. “Stop pouting. You’re making the flowers droop.”  
  
“Huh?” Alma asked. When he looked toward where Fou had nudged her head toward, Alma could see several of the flowers around them were beginning to lower, petals and leaves drooping a bit.  
  
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that!” Alma apologized as he motioned for the flowers to move upright, swiftly correcting the impacted behavior.  
  
Fou exhaled, as she shook her head. “We clearly need to work on that. Your emotions are what signal your powers, and you need to at least get a handle on them,” she explained, as she placed a hand on her hip. “You definitely can’t expect to go to the Acropolis and then have a mood swing that causes flowers to sprout everywhere.”  
  
Alma looked back at Fou, and smiled a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, you’re right,” Alma said, as Fou’s last comment lingered in his mind. Although it hadn’t been a promise, it certainly gave Alma hope. Maybe if he did get a better handle on his powers, he would be able to visit the Acropolis sooner.  
  
“We can train on that after this, right?” Alma then asked, eyes hopeful. “Maybe do some more of those meditation exercises – that would be good, wouldn’t it?”  
  
There was an eagerness to Alma’s voice as he spoke, and it immediately caused Fou to soften. It was difficult not to; Alma was just so quick to give everything his all, and do his best. The last thing Fou could do was shoot him down.  
  
Fou smiled. “Yeah. We can do that.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The chamber was cool – cooler than what Twi normally liked. It was low, and below the large, two-story estate that she and her family dwelled within. Because of this, the walls were darker, with tree roots splintering through the walls as intricate engravings were embedded into the stone. They were aged, and worn – archaic lettering and spells that offered protection.  
  
Twi wasn’t focused on the wall. Instead, she was focused on the globe in front of her: a large sphere, that mapped out various landmarks and settlements. As it turned, she was able to see the status of various fields, and mountain ranges: the crops humans planted, the rivers that flowed through the land. Twi could watch from this point, as she was thus able to carefully keep an eye on things, making sure that the land was balanced and taken care of.  
  
A pensive frown crossed her features, her eyes resting on one area in particular. It was a field of crops not too far away actually, though it appeared as though it were struggling. A breath escaping her, Twi realized it was a field she would likely need to attend to in person.  
  
There were footsteps, as someone descended the staircase that led into the faintly illuminated chamber. Twi turned, just as she caught sight of Edgar entering into the chamber.  
  
Edgar immediately made eye contact with Twi, and smiled. “You’ve been down here since before I left this morning,” Edgar said, as he approached her. He was wearing a tunic and slacks, somewhat coated with dust; it was a contrast to the pale peplum Twi wore, which was long and untainted.  
  
Twi noticed, and eyed Edgar somewhat carefully. “Did you fall?” she asked, inquiry coming out in something of a deadpan.  
  
Edgar looked confused, before he swiftly caught on to what Twi was inquiring about. Good-naturedly, he laughed as he rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, I might have tripped a bit outside – those rocks can be slippery sometimes,” he explained, before sobering up a little. “I did want to tell you – the surrounding areas and the vegetation seem alright. Except…one area.”  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed. She immediately recalled what she had witnessed on the globe, and already knew what area Edgar that was referring to. “The fields southwest of here?”  
  
Edgar nodded. By now, the humorous glint that had been in his eyes had diminished, his gaze more focused. “Yes – something is affecting the crops there, but…the soil was fine. And the waterways,” Edgar said, tone shifting slightly. “To be honest, I’m not even sure what it is causing it. My abilities with nature don’t run as deeply as yours, but something doesn’t feel right.”  
  
Hearing this, Twi’s expression grew hard. “I’ll see to it then,” Twi said. Then, as an afterthought she posed another question – this time, more worried. “Do you know where Alma is?”  
  
Gently, Edgar smiled. “He’s with Fou – I saw them in the woods on my way back,” Edgar explained. “I was moving quickly, so they didn’t see me – but I think I heard Alma talking about the Acropolis to Fou.”  
  
Twi sighed heavily. She massaged her forehead. “Of course he was…” Twi murmured.  
  
Edgar looked at Twi thoughtfully. “Twi,” he began to say, words somewhat cautionary as he spoke. “Maybe…it’s time we let him go. If he’s with Bak and Zuu-“  
  
“We can’t do that,” Twi rushed, the response more instinctive that anything else. She attempted to collect herself though, and took a breath. “You…_know _we can’t, Edgar. Something could trigger…”  
  
Twi didn’t finish. In her mind, she saw a flash of images: dark, and distressing. Images that no matter how much she attempted to bury, she couldn’t forget.  
  
_It was crouched on the bed, hunched over with its legs bent like that of a grasshopper; its face was turned away from Twi, as it was focusing on the seven-year-old boy it currently had backed against the headboard, wide-eyed and afraid.   
  
Looming. That monster was looming over-_  
  
Concern pooled in Edgar’s eyes, as he already seemed to know what it was that was haunting Twi. Gingerly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and spoke gently. “Twi…Twi, we took care of that all. Alma’s fine now. He’s been fine ever since,” Edgar reassured.   
  
Twi wasn’t as easily comforted, and her eyes flickered to Edgar sharply. “I’m going to check on that field,” she said, deliberately changing the subject. “Can you keep an eye on things while I’m there?”  
  
Edgar sighed, before nodding.  
  
Twi didn’t say anything else, as she was quick to leave after that. In her chest, she felt a pinch of regret; she knew that Edgar was only trying to offer some reassurance and comfort. He always did, as Edgar was just that way; he was tender, and he was soft. Far softer than Twi – that was for certain. It was easy for one to say Edgar was the kinder of the two, possibly because he was such a pushover. But, Twi was stricter. Harsher.  
  
Sometimes, she felt guilty.  
  
Carefully, Twi tucked the thoughts away. It would do her no good to dwell on them, and to lose focus. Not now.  
  
Before Edgar could say anything else, Twi ascended up the staircase. It was a narrow, spiral one that led up to the first floor of their house. Exiting from the staircase, Twi entered into what was the main hall. It was simple in design, with smooth wooden floors and a high ceiling. The walls were covered in plaster though, frescoed and painted with calming, neutral colors. Intricate patterns bordered the top and bottom of the walls, tracing along with scarlet ribbons rimmed in gold, while thin, limestone pillars helped to support the weight of the ceiling and upper-story.  
  
Twi left outside through the front. The air was fresh and clear, cleansed by the bounty of the trees and plants that encompassed the estate. Lush green leaves towered above, with glimpses of cerulean and sunshine spilled downward. It allowed for some light to reach the grass and flowers, with the shade allowing for the soil to stay cool and soft.   
  
Life was plentiful in this domain – this pocket of earth that Twi’s family had chosen to remain, just close enough to keep an eye on the humans yet safely veiled from sight. In addition to the plant life, the wildlife was just as prominent. Birds could be heard chirping above, while occasionally one might catch a glimpse of a doe. t was nothing short of an idyllic scene. Nothing except…  
  
Twi’s eyes moved over to one area. It was around the side of the house, just a short distance away: a patch of earth where the grass was sparser, and the soil was rockier. The pigmentation of the earth even appeared dull; the green grass was faded to a pale, yellowish-hue, while the soil seemed tinged with gray.  
  
Amongst this patch, a slight crack could be seen spiraling out.  
  
Twi exhaled. The earth had never healed in that spot – not where Fou had killed that akuma all of those years ago, as its essence polluted the ground beneath it. Like a disease, the dark matter that made of the akuma had contaminated the ground, destroying much capability for it to flourish as it once had.   
  
Twi had tried many times to fix it, and to erase the hideous reminder of what had happened. However, each attempt had been in vain; she had been able to contain the dark matter until it had disintegrated, but the soil had suffered as a result. Even her powers had not been able to restore it. Even she wasn’t so strong that she could counter what the akuma had brought with it entirely.  
  
Dark matter. Poison. Disease.  
  
_Death._  
  
She drew a breath, as the word haunted her mind. Death. That was what akuma were: harbingers of death and suffering. They were cruel creations, designed with the intent to kill. To kill, and to feed off their life so that they would not waste away and rot into nothing.  
  
When the akuma had turned rampant, the Order had tried to seal them away. Them, and their masters.  
  
Tried. They had tried, and-  
  
_‘Stop.’_  
  
Twi shook the thoughts from her mind. The Noah had been sealed away, with a spell cast so that they could never leave their home in the Underworld – not without stripping themselves of their powers, and suffering greatly. The only way they could leave was under the command of the Order, and even that was a rarity.  
  
As for the akuma, they had been sealed off. Locked away behind the barrier that Twi’s family had created, and imprisoned as well.  
  
Twi reminded herself of this. She repeated it internally, as though it were a mantra. The akuma were sealed: they were locked away, and powerless. They posed no threat, and could not do anymore harm.   
  
However, Twi also thought back to her globe, and to the field she had seen having trouble. Weak, graying soil, and frail crops…  
  
Before Twi could let her thoughts run anymore, she departed the area.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma walked along, continuing through the forest as he attended to the various plants and trees. They were all well for the most part, each vibrant with life and energy radiating through their stems. It was not surprising; Alma’s family was always attentive to the forest and earth, doing all they could do make sure each flower and every branch was well accounted for.   
  
Fou hovered, levitating about a foot off the ground as she accompanied Alma. She kept her arms cross, expression somewhat neutral as she watched Alma complete his tasks.   
  
Alma stopped, just as he went to attend to another tree. He hesitated as he caught sight of Fou’s expression though, and an apologetic look crossed his features. “Ah, this is probably getting a little boring for you….”  
  
Fou shrugged. “It beats monitoring the barrier by myself,” she commented. “At least this way I get something else to do.”  
  
“It really doesn’t make it any harder for you to monitor things?” Alma asked, as he turned back to Fou. “I mean, I know you say it doesn’t, but what if…something tried to pass it?”  
  
Fou rolled her eyes. “I’d feel it – I’m connected to the barrier that surrounds this area. It’s how your parents designed it,” she explained, as she met Alma’s gaze. “If anything unwelcome were to try to come through it, I’d feel it.”  
  
Alma nodded. “Right…” He said, eyes growing thoughtful. Alma didn’t say anything else though.  
  
Almost immediately, Fou noticed. She frowned, not missing the way Alma was so distractedly staring off into space, almost as though his mind has run off somewhere. “What?” Fou asked, inquiry sharp.  
  
Alma floundered, returning from wherever his thoughts had taken him abruptly. He blinked, before running his hand through his hair. “Oh…um, nothing,” Alma answered, as he tried to brush off the topic.  
  
If anything, this only served as more of an indicator to Fou that it _hadn’t_ had been nothing – whatever it was. If there was one thing she knew about Alma, it was that Alma rarely went quiet. He was always prattling along, sharing every single thought that crossed his mind with enthusiasm. It was only when something was bothering Alma that his words dulled to a murmur.  
  
Placing her hands on her hips, Fou scowled. “Yeah, right. You have that _look_ on your face,” Fou pointed out. “You know, the kind where you’ve _obviously_ thinking of something?”  
  
Alma flinched, completely abashed at being so directly called out. He knew that trying to convince Fou otherwise at this point would be in vain though, and nervously he rubbed his arm. “Well…I was wondering about the outside of the barrier. You can go a bit outside it, right?”  
  
Fou stopped. She wasn’t entirely certain as to where Alma was taking this conversation, but her senses twitched. Fou remained wary as she eyed Alma, knowing that whatever was on his mind was bound to simmer unless addressed.  
  
“Not far,” Fou clarified, keeping her words short. "You already know that – I’m connected the barrier around this realm specifically. I can’t go that far unless allowed, and to be honest, I don’t really want to.”  
  
“Really?” Alma asked. “Not even a little bit?”  
  
“Nope,” Fou clipped. She turned back to Alma, scowl lessening just a bit. “You know, there really isn’t much out there like I said earlier….just some humans. It’s nowhere near as nice as in this area. So I don’t know why you always think about out there.”  
  
Alma didn’t say much at first. He shouldn’t have been surprised by Fou’s response – it was close to the same one she gave him anytime Alma brought this topic up. Every now and then, Alma’s intrigue and wonder would burn too deeply, and he would spill, cracking with innocent questions about what it was like in the mortal realm. But each time, Fou was quick to shut the notion down – to remind Alma that it wasn’t anything superb, and that it couldn’t compare to where Alma already was.  
  
Alma shifted his footing a bit. He admittedly felt a bit guilty for bringing it up, and knew he probably seemed ungrateful when he did live in such a nice place. Honestly, Alma didn’t want to necessarily go anywhere else long term; he was happy at home, where he was surrounded by countless trees and blossoms, always encompassed by the perfumed air and richly-colored sky. It was safe. A haven.  
  
And yet…something felt off.   
  
Alma looked back at Fou and smiled sheepishly. “I guess I just have always wanted to know,” Alma explained. He caught sight of Fou’s expression, which was somewhat scrutinizing, and quickly Alma amended his comment. “I mean, I’d never want to actually _leave_ here – nothing like that. It’s just been on my mind a bit lately is all. I mean, Mother will need me to go out there at some point, won’t she? To help with the fields.”  
  
Fou kept her mouth shut at this. She knew what Alma was referring to, but already had a response ready. “Yeah, when you get a better handle on things,” Fou stated. “Which, if you stop rambling and finish up soon we can get to that. Otherwise we’ll be here all day-“  
  
Fou cut off. She turned, looking around as her eyes grew alert.  
  
Alma looked in confusion. “Fou, what is it?”  
  
Fou’s expression remained pensive, as her brow knitted together. She appeared as though she were attempting to processing something, before she spoke. “Nothing,” she said, as she re-focused back on Alma.  
  
There was a slight rustle, causing both Alma and Fou’s attention to shift once more. They looked up to the tree tops, where the sound had come from, before something silvery flashed by, wings beating in the air.  
  
It wasn’t a bird – though it could have been mistaken for one if a person had only caught a small glimpse. A pair of cloudy, silver-tinged wings fluttered while the body was spherical. It looked as though it were made of some kind of crystal or glass, causing it to have a somewhat iridescent sheen – almost like a dragonfly.  
  
But, there was no face. No beak, or no eyes.  
  
“Oh, it’s a golem!” Alma stated, as the winged orb flew down to where he and Fou was.  
  
Fou didn’t say anything. She watched as the golem hovered close to where Alma was, before she noticed it appeared to be holding something: a silver coin. The golem them dropped the coin just as Alma caught it.  
  
Alma looked at the object, as it rested in the palm in his hand. A small bit of surprise appeared in his eyes, as he noticed a set of symbols inscribed on it. “It’s a message from Bak,” Alma realized.  
  
Fou frowned, arms crossed. “It’s about time. Stupid Bak hasn’t written anyone in forever.”  
  
Still holding the coin, Alma waved his hand over it. It glowed faintly, but the light died before the message could unravel. Alma’s lips tugged downward a bit, expression now more confused. “That’s weird….he put a seal on it so I can’t open it.”  
  
“It’s probably for your parents then,” Fou pointed out. “With Bak being at the Order now, it could be sensitive information.”  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah…still it’s sort of weird,” Alma said, as he glanced at Fou questioningly. “I wonder what it’s about?”  
  
Fou remained nonchalant in her response. “You shouldn’t worry about it,” she said. “If it’s not for you, it’s not your problem.”  
  
Alma’s mouth was still forming a small frown, but he didn’t argue. “Yeah, I guess so…” he agreed, as he looked back at the coin. In the lighting, it still gleamed, the symbols carved intricately into the small coin.  
  
Somehow, despite its size, it felt heavy in Alma’s grasp.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fool: Innocence | New Beginnings | Free Spirit | Recklessness | Taken Advantage Of | Inconsideration
> 
> Alright, so it’s a bit of a slow start here. I realize this chapter was more politically heavy, and is more focused on establishing the environment/setting. I did try to edit out what I could, because I worried about it dragging – but it was one of those things where when I cut too much, it just…didn’t work later on? It felt like things were missing.
> 
> I definitely had to work a bit with figuring out how I wanted to interpret deities and Greek mythology (especially with this being a reinterpretation of the Hades and Persephone myth). Instead of having the Olympic deities, I sort of placed the Order in that role (or “new gods” as the Noah called them in the prologue), with each deity likely having an element/domain they rule over. 
> 
> In the case of the Chang family, it’s predominantly earth/the mortal realm. Twi is essentially a Demeter figure, though I wasn’t sure what to do with Edgar. I didn’t envision him necessarily having plant-based abilities, so I thought it would be interesting to have his abilities centered on that (which Bak inherits). I guess I was sort of inspired by the sorcery the Changs are capable of in canon? (Speaking of, I did make Zuu Twi’s father rather than her uncle.)
> 
> Naturally, Alma had to have flower power being the Persephone character. XD I do feel terrible for him though – he’s so sheltered in this story. Being 18 and still stuck at home? I’d die, but honestly, I’ve seen kids that sheltered. It’ll make for a rough awakening when the plot picks up.
> 
> But ah, yeah. XD Thank you for reading!


	3. Discontentment and Disquietude

The fields were dry.  
  
That was the first thing Twi noticed – that the soil was dry, and dull. It wasn’t the rich, damp texture that so often promised a bountiful harvest and lush vegetation. Instead, it was rimmed with dust, and yellow wheat that seemed lacking in its usual golden luster.   
  
Gently, Twi placed a hand on a sheaf of wheat. It hummed in her grasp, the wheat’s life a small, quiet pulsation of energy.  
  
Twi frowned. The wheat felt weak – the pulsation was softer than it should have been, and the sheaf was fragile to the touch. It was strange considering that it was the time where wheat should have been at its strongest, ready to be harvested and turned to grain. However, the quality was lesser than normal – nothing like how wheat typically was in this part of the region.  
  
Taking her hand from the sheaf, Twi knelt on the ground. She placed the palm of her hand onto the earth, the dust of the soil brushing against her fingertips. Quietly, Twi remained still, as a faint rim of golden light glowed beneath her touch. It lingered, trickling out like a stream of honeyed water, seeping into the ground as it spread outward like gossamer threads.  
  
Soon, the light melted into the earth, fading as it trickled out and into soil. Twi removed her hand, standing as she looked out onto the field. \Like a wave amongst a sea of warmth, the wheat rippled, reviving as its golden sheen increased slightly, with life breathing into the sheaths.   
  
Twi exhaled, as she pulled her cloak over her. She wore a thin himation over her attire, dull in its appearance and plain. From a distance, she would have looked as though to be nothing more than a simple, mortal woman – a measly disguise, but one that sufficed all the same. Humans were often easy to fool.  
  
A breath of air brushed by, once more rippling through the field like the surface of a pond. Twi observed for a few moments more before feeling satisfied enough to leave the field be, with it now on a path to reaching its full prosperity.   
  
Not far off, the sound a wood creaking reached Twi’s ears. She turned, just as she caught sight of a horse pulling a cart along, with an older man driving. He looked as though he were delivering something – fabric, by the looks of it. They were rolled into bundles, and piled into the back as the man rode along, with the horse trotting down a beaten stretch of a road that passed beside the fields.  
  
Twi watched. She was not that far away from the dirt road, and she was close enough that the man would likely notice her. Perhaps, he would only continue on if he did – as far as he would be able to tell, Twi would be nothing more than an ordinary woman.  
  
It was only seconds before this theory began to come into fruition, as the man’s attention flickered over to where Twi was. The man tugged at the reigns of the horse, causing the cart to slow to a stop, before he called over to Twi. “Excuse me – are you heading to Messenei?” he asked, words a bit broken and leaden with a heavy accent. “I’ve been traveling for a while – I was told it was this way.”  
  
Twi shook her head. However, she approached where the man was, before nodding in the direction that he had been heading. “I am not, but if you continue this way you should reach it by sundown,” she explained, knowing the settlement of which the man spoke of. It had started as a village, but had been expanding in size over the recent years.  
  
Returning her attention to the man, Twi’s pale eyes peered at him. “You are not from this region,” she noticed.  
  
The man smiled, skin worn and wrinkled with age. He was dressed in several layers of clothing, slightly of a different style and make than what most people in the region wore; the fabric was also thin, and was beginning to look threadbare in some parts. “Ah, no. I’m coming from Antipatrea – I’ve brought wears from there to sell.”  
  
Twi frowned. “That’s a long distance for someone to come merely to sell textiles and fabrics…”  
  
“It is, but Anipatrea isn’t what it once was,” the man spoke, his voice dropping a hair. He glanced around, almost nervously, before looking back at Twi to comment further. “Unnatural things began to happen…strange things, so I did my best to pick up and leave before anything more happened.”  
  
Frown remaining, Twi’s eyes went hard. There was a skeptical glint in her eye, scrutinizing and dubious of the man’s words.  
  
Quickly, the man spoke up again, noticing Twi’s expression. “I know, I know – it probably sounds crazy from an old fool like me. But some people went missing, and even livestock,” he explained, before shaking his head. “I heard this region is blessed though – the gods are kinder here is what people say.”  
  
Twi’s lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t say anything at first, as her expression was somewhat pensive. When she finally spoke, her words were calm, and even. “Did you ever see anything?”  
  
The old man looked a bit surprised by Twi’s inquiry. He shook his head. “No…no, I never saw anything myself. Didn’t want to,” he said, as he looked back at Twi with questioning eyes. “You really aren’t going to Messenei? There aren’t many other places close by I’ve seen, and I could give you a ride if you don’t mind sitting on wool.”  
  
“No. I’m not going,” Twi said, words firm enough to end the topic right there.  
  
The man nodded in understand, as he glanced forward for a bit. “Well, if you’re sure,” he conceded, despite sounding a bit uncertain. He turned to where Twi was again. “But best be careful if-“  
  
Abruptly, the man stopped speaking. When he looked, there was no sign of Twi anywhere in the field.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“I have to go.”  
  
Alma looked up, surprised. “What? he asked. “But I’m almost done!”  
  
It was true – Alma was practically done with his chores, and would finally have time to do the training he had been looking forward to doing with Fou. The task admittedly had taken Alma some time, as he had periodically gotten distracted by chattering along, but surely Fou didn’t have to go when he was finally going to be ready, was she?  
  
Fou rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry – we can still train later,” she said. “I just have to go for a bit – don’t be nosey and try to pry into whatever it was stupid Bak sent.”  
  
“I’m not going to pry,” Alma defended.   
  
Fou looked at him dubiously, expression flat.   
  
Alma looked back, somewhat startled that Fou would think otherwise. “Really, I won’t!”  
  
“Uh huh,” Fou stated, though the disbelief linger. “That’s why you got caught prying the last time a sealed message came from Zuu, right?”  
  
Alma’s face went red, and he broke eye contact with Fou. “That was just one time…and it’s not like I was able to actually read it…” he mumbled, recalling just what instance Fou was referring to. Out of curiosity, Alma had attempted to open a sealed message from his grandfather, and had nearly gotten his hand electrocuted as a result.   
  
“My point stands,” Fou stated, as she uncrossed her arms. “I’ll see you later today.”  
  
There were a few sparks of green light, before Fou disappeared after that, leaving Alma in the woods.  
  
Alma exhaled, shoulders slumping a bit in disappointment. He wasn’t sure why Fou had needed to leave so abruptly, as she hadn’t said anything earlier. However, Fou was connected to the barriers that surrounded the area. For all Alma knew, Fou might have noticed something she needed to attend to.  
  
“She did say she’d see me later…” Alma murmured to himself, knowing that Fou was always true to her word. In all his time of knowing her, Fou was always dependable, and someone Alma felt he could trust. If anything, Alma was only feeling a bit more disappointed than normal because he had such a strong urge to train more. It didn’t help that he was feeling restless.  
  
A fluttering noise hummed in Alma’s ears, and he turned, just as he recognized the golem from earlier. Its silver body glinted in the speckles of sunlight that spilled through the tree branches, and its wings created and almost iridescent sheen.  
  
“Oh, you’ve been hiding around here this whole time?” Alma asked, as the golem flew over to him. “I was wondering if you had gone back…you went away after dropping this off.”  
  
Alma held up the coin, and the golem hummed. It nudged Alma’s hand gently, before hovering patiently.  
  
Alma smiled in understanding. “You want to make sure it gets delivered, right? We can try to find one of my parents. They’re usually around somewhere.”  
  
The golem fluttered over, as it planted itself onto Alma’s shoulder. Alma laughed softly, as he tapped the golem. “Comfy?” he asked, though the golem didn’t give much indicator of a response other than nestling itself further into Alma’s shoulder.  
  
Alma started walking after that, heading back toward the estate. He imagined it was likely one of his parents would be there, if not close by, and at the very least Alma could make sure to put the message somewhere secure until they received it.   
  
The walk was a leisurely one. With how beautiful it was outside, Alma found it challenging to rush himself. The air was so clear and fragrant, with the sight of the forest being no less remarkable. The trees were tall and towering, housing birds that chirped their sweet songs, while the ground was covered with patches of flowers. Pink, purple, yellow – all sorts of colors carpeted the earth, each as vibrant as a jewel beneath the sun.  
  
Ethereal. It was completely ethereal.  
  
It was not long before the estate came into view. The house itself was only two stories, but was elongated in structure, modest in design yet still spacious. It had to be, as it not only house Alma and his family, but several nymphs who assisted with things like cooking and housekeeping.  
  
Alma turned, as he had come to where the side of the house was. As he turned slightly to move toward the front, he could feel the golem twitch on his shoulder. Its feathers ruffled, as it twitched again before flapping its wings anxiously.  
  
Stopping, Alma looked over at the golem. There was both a perplexed and concerned look on his face, as he wasn’t entirely sure what it was that had suddenly disturbed the golem. “What? Is something wrong?” Alma asked.  
  
The golem flapped its wings a bit more, before it flew off of Alma’s shoulder. It still hovered close by, but its body turned so that it was facing an area near the side of the house.   
  
Alma turned, his line of sight following to where the golem seemed to be focusing-  
  
_‘Oh…’_  
  
Alma saw it immediately: the deadened patch of earth, where the vividness of color depleted and the soil ran dry. It was like a dark, graying bruise among the earth, disrupting the grass’s vibrancy and shine.   
  
Alma glanced back at the golem, as he now realized what must have been bothering it. “You don’t like that area either, huh?” Alma asked, voice a bit quiet. “Mother and Father call it a dead patch – they told me an akuma was killed there and it contaminated that area.”  
  
As Alma spoke this, he felt as if he was reciting his parents’ words. For years, that patch of dead earth had been there – really, it had been there for as long as Alma could remember. He had no recollection of an akuma attack, and his parents had always told him that it had happened at night while he was asleep.   
  
_“You were fortunate you didn’t have to see it, and that nothing worse happened.”_  
  
That was what they had always told Alma: that he had been lucky. That he had been lucky that Fou had caught the akuma before it could actually get inside. The thought alone was always chilling to Alma; he imagined this was one reason why his parents always seemed to be so protective. A near attack, even without casualties, was frightening.  
  
Sometimes, it frightened Alma. Not in a bone-chilling way, but through a subtle shiver that rippled down his spine. Alma might not have seen the akuma, but he had seen the effects it had had on the earth.  
  
Alma released a breath that he hadn’t even realized that he had been holding. He glanced back at the golem and smiled hesitantly. “I guess I was lucky…I didn’t see the attack. I feel like an akuma’s the one thing I wouldn’t ever want to see. I mean, they do sound pretty scary, don’t they?”  
  
The golem shuddered, as it huddled close to Alma. It once more buried itself into his shoulder, nestling close in an attempt to ease itself.  
  
Sensing the golem’s continuing discomfort, Alma made a move to leave. “We can go now,” he began to say. “I know it’s sort of eerie to look at-“  
  
Alma cut off. Just as he had started to turn, he felt a chill. Not the normal, fearful chill that he might have felt with thinking of such things as an akuma, but something colder. Icier, and sharp. It almost felt as though a needle had pierced Alma, threading itself through his spine as a tinge of frost kissed his blood.   
  
The sensation was abrupt, and alarming. Alma turned, his bright blue eyes once more tracing back to the dead patch of earth. His attention migrated, immediately gravitating toward the center of the patch – just where a strange, narrow cracker spiraled somewhat outward as though it were a spidery vein.  
  
In that crack, Alma thought he saw something shift.  
  
Surprise filled Alma, as he continued to stare. Had he imagined it? Surely he must have – there was no way the patch could produce life as the rest of the land could. Not anymore, at least. The akuma’s essence had been like a poison, and even Alma’s mother had been unable to breathe life back into it.  
  
But, if that were true, then what could Alma have seen….?  
  
Without thinking, Alma took a step forward. It had been a subconscious move, almost as though something were silently beckoning him to come near. It was strange; Alma had always stayed far away from the area, since that was what his parents had told him to do. He had never questioned their words before then.  
  
_‘What if…it’s not dead completely?’_ Alma wondered, as he took another step closer. He was still a safe enough distance away from the dulled and dried earth, though again, Alma could feel himself questioning something. Something he didn’t understand.  
  
It wasn’t until the golem began to flap its wings, flying off of Alma’s shoulder and tugging the strap of his chiton that Alma realized what was happening.  
  
Blinking, Alma came to an abrupt stop. For a moment, he looked a bit lost, as though he didn’t even understand what it was that he was doing. However, the golem’s frantic fluttering seemed to anchor Alma back into the present moment, and he looked on in complete surprise when he saw how close he had gotten to the dead patch.  
  
Immediately, Alma backed up, before turning with the golem. “Ah – sorry,” Alma apologized to the golem. “I…um, let’s turn and go this way.”  
  
The words spilled out quickly, tumbling out in an awkward and confused manner. Alma wasn’t sure what had happened though. He wasn’t sure what it was that had _overtaken_ him in such a way. Yes, Alma had always been inquisitive with what his older brother would often call an overly curious mind, but Alma _knew_ better. He knew not to go near that small bit of land.  
  
He knew this, and yet he had been tempted to.  
  
Shaking his head, Alma pushed the thoughts out of the forefront of his mind. The whole experience had been strange, and not felt like a foggy memory. A dream at best.  
  
_‘Strange,’_ Alma thought, as he entered through the front of the house with the golem.  
  
There were two nymphs in the main hall, with one looking as though she were doing some light cleaning, and another nymph watering just one of many plants that decorated the inside of the estate. Both nymphs turned, with each politely bowing their head to Alma in acknowledgement as they smiled kindly.   
  
Alma waved to them, but didn’t linger. Since they both seemed pre-occupied, he didn’t want to disturb the nymphs; even Alma knew it would be too easy to get distracted in a conversation with them, as it had happened plenty of times before.  
  
Instead, Alma focused on trying to find one of his parents. Usually, at least one was near the estate; more than likely, Alma imagined his mother would be in the chamber below the first floor. Twi often spent her time there when not out attending to any mortal matters in person.  
  
Alma walked down the hall, eventually coming to a door. It was slightly different than any other of the doors in the house, with this one being the color of silver and slate gray. Upon it, markings danced upward in tendrils, reminiscent of vines and ancient glyphs.   
  
Gently, Alma placed his hand on the door. The glyphs illuminated faintly in a luminous, teal color before the door clicked open.  
  
Alma looked as a spiral stairwell led downward. He followed it, descending as he attempted to keep his footsteps like. If his mother was downstairs, he didn’t want to accidently catch her off guard if she was focusing on anything. Alma had done that once before when he was younger, and still remembered being scolded.   
  
Sometimes, Alma still made mistakes he got scolded for – but he knew his mother loved him. She always forgave him, and never seemed to be able to stay angry with Alma; she was only the type who worried, and deep down, had a soft spot.  
  
Alma looked as he exited down the stairs, the chamber illuminated by the markings on the ivory walls that emitted a soft glow. For a fleeting second, Alma was distracted by the markings; his eyes naturally gravitated toward the intricate, swirling patterns. While they were older symbols, Alma had grown to recognize certain glyphs, having been exposed to them since he was a small child. They were mostly protective symbols, designed to ward off threats and anything harboring the same dark matter that creatures such as akuma did.  
  
“Alma?”  
  
Alma turned, a little startled. Somehow, he had almost forgotten where he was, let alone that someone likely would have been down in the lower chamber. But when Alma looked, he saw that it was his father who had come upon him.   
  
Edgar smiled, a somewhat amused look in his eyes. “You were so quiet I almost didn’t hear you come down,” he commented, before glancing at the glyphs Alma had been staring at. “You didn’t come down to stare at these, did you?”  
  
There was a gentle, teasing edge to Edgar’s voice – the kind that always made Alma feel far younger than he actually was, almost as though he were a little boy again. It wasn’t so much a patronizing thing as it was an endearing one, though, and Alma didn’t mind it. He was used to it.  
  
“Ah, no,” Alma said, as he turned a bit more so he was facing his father completely. On his shoulder, the golem had remained still – but it flapped its wings a bit when its attention landed on Edgar, its orb-like body taking flight as it flew over to him.  
  
Surprise flickered in Endgar’s eyes when he noticed the golem. “A golem?” he asked, not recognizing it as any that he or Twi use. Edgar tapped the golem gently, as he spoke to Alma. “Where’d you find this little guy?”  
  
“In the forest,” Alma said, before taking out the coin the golem had delivered earlier. “He brought a message – it’s from Bak, but it’s sealed so I couldn’t open it or anything…”  
  
Edgar raised an eyebrow. “It’s from Bak?” he asked, as he took the coin. He glanced at it, and recognized the symbol on the coin though, realizing that Alma was right.

A pensive looked flickered across Edgar’s expression, with the soft look he normally wore fracturing a bit. Carefully, Edgar brushed his hand over the coin, as he felt for the seal. It was there, and it was strong – stronger than a normal seal.  
  
Alma watched. He hadn’t missed the way his father’s expression had shifted, and his intrigue was instantly piqued. Tilting his head to the side, Alma waited, though his father didn’t appear to be removing the seal. “Are you going to see what it says?” Alma asked, as he struggling to keep his excitable curiosity in check.  
  
Taking the coin, Edgar pocketed it. He smiled at Alma. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I think it may be for your mother,” Edgar said, brushing off the inquiry.   
  
Alma’s excitement deflated. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping that his father would have opened the message right then and there so Alma could be in on whatever it was about. He hadn’t heard from Bak in a while, nor had Alma seen him, and Alma only wanted to know what was going on.  
  
Noticing Alma’s disappointment, Edgar quickly attempted to ease him. “Hey,” he started to say, as he caught Alma’s attention. “If there’s anything for you in there, I’ll let you know, okay? It’s probably just dry political things – trust me, you won’t be missing anything if that’s all it is.”  
  
Alma looked back up. The earnest way in which his father spoke was clear, and despite the childish bit of disappointment, Alma managed to smile. He knew his father would tell him if there was anything in the message for him – Edgar always did that.  
  
However, Alma still remained a bit quiet – even more so than usual. It was a bit odd, since he tended to rebound fairly quickly. But something was just _weighing_ on him. Alma wasn’t even sure what it was. It simply lingered in the back of his mind, like something hidden away and just out of reach.  
  
Again, Edgar seemed to notice the way Alma had quieted. “You could always write to Bak – he’d probably be happy to hear from you, and we could send it back with the golem,” Edgar suggested.  
  
This perked Alma a bit more. He often wrote to both Bak and their grandfather, Zuu, but didn’t always receive speedy responses since they were both so busy at the Acropolis. But, Alma hadn’t written in a bit. If anything, it would help Alma take his mind off of things.  
  
“Okay,” Alma said.  
  
There was a little more certainty in Alma’s voice this time, and Edgar appeared almost a little relieved. “I’ll let you get to that. Probably more interesting than hanging down here with me,” Edgar said.  
  
Alma blinked, as his father turned after that. The globe was just behind where he had been – the orb that would shift and reflect various parts of the land, allowing for Alma’s parents to observe and watch over things from a distance when needed. Alma realized that his mother must have been out somewhere; often she was the one to look over things.  
  
The golem flew back over to Alma, perching once more on his shoulder. It nudged Alma with its wing, but Alma didn’t move. He remained still, appearing as though he were wavering. Rubbing his arm, Alma glanced back toward the stairwell, before re-focusing on where his father was.   
  
Edgar had already returned his attention to the globe, appearing to be focusing on a few areas in particular. He hadn’t seemed to realize that Alma had stayed, and already had a concentrated look on his face.  
  
Alma took a small breath. He felt oddly nervous, as something danced on the tip of his tongue. But he struggled to get the words out, and could only stand there, feeling cemented to the ground as though his whole body had frozen solid.  
  
By chance, Edgar happened to glance over. He looked a bit confused when he realized that Alma was still there, and stood more upright. “Alma, is something wrong?”  
  
There was concern in Edgar’s voice, which caused Alma to feel guilty. He quickly shook his head. “No! No, nothing’s wrong,” Alma said, as he rubbed his arm again anxiously.  
  
Alma knew that it was now or never, though; he needed to speak up, or else his father would think something was wrong. “I just was thinking…if I write Bak, maybe I could ask about visiting him at the Acropolis?” Alma suggested, voice tentative. “I know you and Mother are always saying he’s busy, which is why he doesn’t get to visit here often, but I could visit with Grandfather too.”  
  
Edgar was taken aback. “What?” he asked, completely caught off guard by the question. “Alma, the Acropolis is a lot different than here….and Bak and Zuu could be tied up with things depending on what Bak sent in the message.”  
  
Already, Alma could feel any hope he had started to foster sink. He bit the inside of his cheek, and looked off to the side. “I know…but I mean, it’s not like I’d have to be with them _all_ the time. The Acropolis is safe, and I’m already eighteen – and that’s how old Bak was when he went to train with Zuu! So maybe I could do some training things there?”  
  
Alma had turned back to his father as he pleaded this, eyes once more tinting with longing. However, Alma had no idea if his reasons would make any difference. He really was more or less grasping at straws, as a sudden yearning overtook him. It was overpowering, and almost felt as it had come from nowhere; however, the sensation was achingly familiar. More so than Alma wanted to admit.  
  
Edgar scratched his head, looking hesitant. It was hard for him to look at Alma, considering how _hopeful_ the teenager’s eyes were. He sighed, as he lowered his hand. “Alma, you know that Bak doesn’t have the same type of abilities you do – so he _had_ to go train with Zuu,” Edgar explained, keeping his voice soft. “It’s not the same situation. Besides, you know your mother would rather you stay here. So much of the plant life here has started to become dependent on you, and you do such a great job taking care of things already.”  
  
The compliment was woven in carefully, though it did little to ease the blow that the rest of the words carried. Almost immediately, Alma’s face fell as a weight tugged at his heart.   
  
What else should Alma have expected though? His parents had always made a strong effort to keep him close to home, but Alma had hoped that they’d at least let him visit other places. He was certainly old enough, and if he went to the Acropolis, he would still technically be with family.  
  
Alma wished this reasoning would be enough. He really did.  
  
The air seemed heavy, and Edgar watched Alma’s expression crumble. The disappointment was palpable, and there was an immediate urge Edgar had to somehow resolve it. Quickly, he tried to think of something to say or do – but only one thing came to mind.  
  
Exhaling, Edgar took a step toward Alma. “Hey,” he said, as he placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder. “I’ll say something to your mother, alright? Maybe if not too much is going on we can think about working something out.”  
  
Alma blinked, looking rather surprised. Before he could even think to remain level-headed, his heart jumped into his throat. “Really?”  
  
“Well, I can’t promise anything…” Edgar explained, not wanting to give his word on anything he couldn’t make good on. “But let’s just play it by ear, okay, kiddo?”  
  
A small smile appeared on Alma’s face, as he heard the childish nickname. His father didn’t use it much anymore – really, Edgar had only called Alma that when he was small. But occasionally it would slip out, and it never ceased to bring some small bit of nostalgic comfort.  
  
“Okay,” Alma said. Deep down, he felt yet another twinge of hope – one that he was careful not to let rise too quickly, but remained present all the same.   
  
Maybe, if he was lucky, Alma’s parents would let him go outside the barrier.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Light sparked, as Fou’s body materialized. She blinked, frowning as she took in her surroundings: a valley where several mountains loomed in the distance, with wild flowers sprinkled out among grassy slopes and several trees not far off.  
  
Outside. Fou had been summoned outside of the barrier.  
  
Fou turned, and nearby, she could see the one who had called her: Twi.  
  
“You rarely summon me outside of the barrier,” Fou spoke, the observation sounding grave in her own ears. Fou glanced around, as she noted the area they were in. “Especially this far away…”  
  
Fou didn’t say anymore after that, though even she felt a bit anxious as to know just what it was Twi had summoned her for. While the distance she hadn’t been summoned hadn’t been horribly far, it was far enough that Fou found it concerning. Even with her link to the barrier that kept her masters’ estate safe, Fou being summoned away was an unsettling thing.  
  
Twi’s expression remained pensive. She wasn’t quick to speak, and appeared to be observing something – an area, just a few meters from where they stood.  
  
“Fou,” Twi began to say. “I need you to see something.”  
  
Fou’s brow creased. Twi was usually more direct, and the vagueness was concerning. However, Fou didn’t say this aloud, and only nodded her head in understanding.  
  
Twi motioned for Fou to go to the area she had been observing. Fou did so, eyes still wary and lips pulled into a scowl; Fou hated surprises.  
  
_‘What is it…’_ Fou wondered, as she walked over. She really had no idea what to expect. From a distance, nothing had seemed unusual to Fou, and everything looked-  
  
Fou stilled.  
  
It hadn’t been noticeable – not from where Fou had been standing, at least. However, once Fou walked close enough she could see what it was that Twi had been referring to. She could see the way the grass dulled, shifting from bright green into an ugly, browning yellow. She could see the lushness of the grass blades lessening, and the way the soil seemed to dry as it became more visible.  
  
In the ground, there was a crack. Another dead patch.  
  
Fou stared. She wasn’t even sure how to react – it looked like the same dead patch outside of the estate, back from when that horrid akuma had attacked so many years ago. It looked the same, which meant that the cause was more than likely the same.  
  
“I couldn’t locate any akuma. Nor have I been able to find any tears or breaches into the Underworld – none here, at least,” Twi explained, words heavy. Her eyes moved over to Fou, gaze intense. “I summoned you in case you might be able to sense anything I’ve somehow missed.”  
  
Fou scowled, as she glanced around. She tried to tap into the energy of surrounding the area, sensing for any kind of fracture or disconnect. However, Fou couldn’t pick up on _anything_; the area felt secure, with no openings or holes from what she could tell. Even when Fou tried to pick up on anything farther away.   
  
Frustration pricked at Fou. “I can’t feel anything,” she finally admitted, though the words somewhat agitated. “From what I an tell, the Underworld is still sealed off….there’s no way an akuma could have just broken through on its own.”  
  
Twi’s eyes hardened. She didn’t say anything, as she stared over at the dead patch, which now stood out to her like a blemish amongst a porcelain.  
  
Fou’s gaze trailed back to Twi. She was honestly hesitant to speak, given the dark shadow that had danced across Twi’s eyes, almost as though a summer storm were brewing inside. However, Fou couldn’t keep quiet – not in this situation, at least.  
  
“What do you think got it?” Fou asked, in reference to the akuma. “Looks like it either got killed or…”  
  
Still, Twi remained silent – almost to the point of putting Fou on edge. When Twi finally did speak, it was little relief though, as her words were oddly even and firm.   
  
“Go back now, and re-evaluate the barriers,” Twi instructed. “I’ll be looking into a few more things out here before returning.”  
  
Fou nodded, as she readied for herself to leave. Before doing so, she glanced back at Twi, as a thought entered into her mind.  
  
“A message came from Bak today,” Fou said. “It was sealed but…it could have something to do with this. Maybe the Order already knows something.”  
  
Twi turned to Fou sharply, seemingly a bit caught off guard by the small bit of knowledge. Within a flash, Twi composed herself though, and nodded her head. “I see…”  
  
Fou didn’t say anything more, sensing that the conversation had reached its end. Quickly, light sparked around her before she disappeared all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hanged Man: Sacrifice | Release | Martyrdom | Stalling | Suspension | Fear of Sacrifice
> 
> Slowly but surely moving things along! Again, this is still a lot of set up these first few chapters. But I really needed to establish some things to set up for the next few ones (I promise it’ll pay off! At least I hope XD). 
> 
> Twi has a lot going on in her head. And I mean a lot. Actually, she’s probably been the hardest character for me to write in this fic. She’s got a lot on her plate, and cares deeply about her family (frankly, to a fault). She’s also very protective of Alma, for more reasons than one. In a way, she has a real (and legitimate, even if it doesn’t seem so now) fear of what could happen to Alma once he strays too far.
> 
> Which, this has a bit of a toxic side effect. Alma literally goes nowhere. He is stuck in a safe, protected bubble with a pretty forest and meadow, with his family and a few nymphs. That’s it. He honestly is really isolated, and naturally, he wants to venture out – but he’s lived this way for so long that he’s adapted, so he relies heavily on that familial love for comfort. (Is this enough though? MMM gets addressed later on)
> 
> Honestly, Twi and Edgar are both guilty of this – and they feel it. They’re definitely not unaware of their actions, and they live with an internalized guilt. But they also struggle to view Alma as anything but a child, which, is hard I imagine. I don’t have kids, but I have a brother nine years younger than me, and really? When I think about him I see a two-year-old in my head. So I guess I’m going off of that.
> 
> Enough rambling though, because I’m sure y’all are sick of it. XD I hope you enjoyed this next installment!


	4. A Glimpse Outside

After Fou left, Twi found nothing.  
  
There was no breach. No crack. There was no fracture of an opening that could have led deep into the earth, into the Underworld where those death favored most resided. There was not even a trace of dark matter for Twi to follow, with the dead patch that she had found stripped dry of the toxicity.   
  
It seemed that whoever had destroyed the akuma had extracted whatever dark matter had been left behind as well.   
  
This could only have meant one thing: that another deity had intervened. No one else had the ability to reduce dark matter in such a way, and the thought was concerning. Twi was one of the few deities charged with looking over the mortal realm, though she mostly focused on the land itself and helping to protect the harvest humans produced. But, at the same time it was her family who had helped to create the seal that sectioned off the Underworld – so if there was an akuma, it was Twi’s concern.  
  
Unless, someone in her family already knew.  
  
A message. Bak had sent a message, apparently – and Twi needed to know what it said.  
  
Twi returned to the estate swiftly, just as the sun was finishing its journey across the sky. Cerulean blue was beginning to fade into pink and gold, as shadows stretched back toward the east. Birds and animals were beginning to skitter away for the night, alternating as the nocturnal creatures were preparing to come out. The air was peaceful though, and quiet – tranquil as always, and without a hint of disruption.  
  
Twi wished that she could have enjoyed it.  
  
Walking briskly, Twi went inside. Her eyes skimmed the area, instinctively looking for Edgar, but Twi didn’t have to look for long. Just a bit of a way’s down, Twi caught sight of Edgar. He was speaking to a nymph, though by the nature of how it appeared the conversation looked light.  
  
Edgar looked up, just happening to spy Twi. Immediately, his eyes lit up a bit, as he excused himself from the conversation. A warm smile remained on Edgar’s face as he walked up to Twi. “I was wondering when you’d be back – you’ve been gone a while,” he said.   
  
Twi’s words caught in her throat. There was such a fondness to how Edgar spoke, and it made her want to forget about the dead patch, and all that was stirring in her mind. However, the more grounded, rational part of Twi immediately tried to resist – she couldn’t get distracted, even if she wanted to. She needed to talk to Edgar, and ask about the message Bak had sent.  
  
Edgar swiftly noticed the reservation in Twi, and within a blink his smile faded, making room for concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Edgar asked, the lightness in his tone evaporating.   
  
Twi exhaled. “Did Bak send a message?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.  
  
Edgar nodded. He pulled out the coin, and held it out for Twi to see. “I hadn’t opened it yet – I wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything?”  
  
Twi’s lips tugged into a frown, as she shook her head. “No,” she confirmed, before glancing at the staircase that led upwards. Her eyes traced up to the railing that led to the second floor – but from her vantage point, she couldn’t see if Alma’s bedroom door was opened or closed.  
  
Taking Edgar’s hand with the coin, Twi pulled him along, as they went into an unoccupied study. It was a smaller one, with a writing desk and chair. There was a tall window, with a velvet-cushioned divan below it as well.  
  
As soon as they were inside, Twi shut the door so that no one would hear. She turned back to Edgar, having let go of his hand, and her eyes met his. “I didn’t want anyone to hear this,” she said, when she noticed the perplexed look her husband was giving her. “I found a dead patch just west of here.”  
  
Despite the calmness in which Twi spoke, the tension still trickled outward. That, along with the confession itself, sent a rush of alarm through Edgar, whose eyes had widened in shock.  
  
“What?” Edgar asked, almost sounding as though he thought he had heard incorrectly. “Twi – that would mean an akuma had been there-“  
  
“I know,” Twi said. “I looked – I even summoned Fou to help me. But we couldn’t find any traces of dark matter, or even a fracture in the barrier. There were no signs of the akuma, either…which meant someone already dealt with it.”  
  
Edgar inhaled sharply. “The Order,” he said, not knowing who else _could _have intervened – at least, without telling them sooner.   
  
Twi nodded, and she looked back at the coin Edgar was holding. “What does it say?”  
  
Edgar remained quiet, but took the coin. Waving his hand over it, he removed the seal, causing the coin to illuminate before it melted into a translucent piece of parchment – one that almost resembled glass. On it, iridescent words were etched into it, forming a letter in Bak’s handwriting.  
  
Eyes skimming over the letter, Edgar’s expression remained somber – a stark contrast to how he normally was. But the severity remained, with his brow only creasing more the farther he read.  
  
Finishing the letter, Edgar released a breath. He handed it to Twi. “It was the Order,” he said, as he watched Twi began to read the letter. “They confiscated the akuma – as well as several others they’ve found.”  
  
Alarm filled Twi, as he looked back up from the letter. “How could there have been more?” she questioned. “We have the Underworld sealed off – the Noah can’t escape, let alone the _akuma_.”  
  
“There were no mentions of the Noah,” Edgar reiterated, face pinched in contemplation. “But that doesn’t mean the Noah aren’t somehow involved. Until then, the Order wants the barriers to be re-evaluated.”  
  
Twi brought her fingers to her temple, as she massaged it gently. She had already finished the letter, and Bak had been as clear as he needed to: the Order wanted them to come to the Acropolis to meet about this.   
  
“They’re requesting I come immediately,” Twi commented, displeasure evident. “Of all times – this is right before the harvest, too.”  
  
Edgar took back the letter, and glanced over it. “It doesn’t state I need to go with you,” he pointed out, as he met Twi’s gaze. “I can remain here, and keep an eye on things. Fou can help me as well.”  
  
Twi nodded. She was still rather put off by the letter, the whole issue bringing her a new level of stress that she did _not _need. However, there was nothing Twi could do about it now – except to go to the Acropolis, and to meet with the Order on this matter.  
  
Shaking her head, Twi continued to massage her temple. She could feel a headache coming on already. “I’ll prepare to leave tomorrow…the sooner this is dealt with, the better,” Twi said, before sighing. “I need to think of what to tell Alma…I don’t like the idea of leaving him with this going on.”  
  
Edgar’s eyes became sympathetic. “Alma will understand it’s political,” he reassured Twi. However, the reassurance felt weak in his own ears, as Edgar recalled the earlier interaction he had had with Alma.   
  
As the memory resurfaced, an idea etched itself into Edgar’s mind. Looking at Twi, he spoke cautiously. “You know…maybe you should take Alma with you. He doesn’t need to attend any meetings, but it might make you feel better to have him close by.”  
  
Twi looked up abruptly, shocked by the notion. Her eyes hardened almost instantly, as soon as she recovered. “Take him to the Acropolis? No, absolutely not,” she countered, shutting the idea down immediately. “He needs to stay here. He shouldn’t be venturing out with all of this going on.”  
  
Edgar closed his eyes, as he took a breath. The response was one that shouldn’t have been surprising to him – Twi was fiercely protective to begin with, but especially so when it came to their younger son. She had been that way for years now.  
  
“Twi, I know you worry, but the Acropolis is _safe_ – the likelihood of anything dangerous happening there is minimal,” Edgar reiterated, keeping his tone as calm as he could. “If anything, it might even be safer than here-“  
  
Twi whipped her head around, and glared at Edgar. “It’s safe enough _here,_” she argued. “We’ve been over this – it’s just too risky for Alma to go outside of the barrier, including the Acropolis. We agreed on this _years_ ago. We agreed that after what happened, it was better for him.”  
  
Edgar’s expression hardened, as he recalled what it was Twi was referring to: that moment when they had both agreed to keep Alma hidden away from the rest of the world, carefully contained in a safe little bubble. It had been a necessary decision at the time, one that Edgar and Twi had both struggled to find an alternative solution for. What had happened all of those years ago had been a terrifying experience, which had led to complications – complications that Twi and Edgar had needed to get under control, before anyone else learned the truth.  
  
Even with this knowledge, it never erased the guilt that Edgar felt.   
  
Perhaps, that was what was spurning Edgar now: the guilt of keeping their younger child confined to their home, and of keeping him away from the rest of the world and even other deities. Edgar was not blind; he knew that Alma wanted to venture out. Even when Alma pulled back and tried so hard not to push the topic, Edgar knew that he struggled. It was a punch to the gut to think about, and Edgar _knew_ that it wasn’t fair.  
  
Edgar spoke again. “Twi, just…at least _consider_ it. It’s been years now, and there haven’t been any side effects after what happened,” Edgar explained. “We can’t keep putting it off – if anything, the more we isolate him, the more unusual it may seem to outsiders. Taking him to the Acropolis could be a _good _thing.”  
  
“We aren’t _isolating _him,” Twi countered. “There are nymphs, and there’s Fou – he’s not _alone_ here.”  
  
“No, but we don’t know if he feels that way,” Edgar finally spoke out, voice elevating a bit more than normal. “He misses Bak and Zuu – he really wants to visit them, and doesn’t understand why we haven’t let him.”  
  
Realization filled Twi’s eyes, and she crossed her arms. Gathering herself, she frowned. “You talked to him?”  
  
Sighing, Edgar ran a hand through his hair. “Yes…yes, I spoke with him today,” he said. “He asked me about visiting, and I…told him I’d talk to you.”  
  
Twi uncrossed her arms, scowling. “Edgar, this is _not _the time for him to be going anywhere,” she emphasized. “We can’t risk it, and we shouldn’t even be _discussing_ it.”  
  
Edgar didn’t say anything. He had clearly hit a wall with Twi on the subject, though Edgar couldn’t say he was content with how the conversation was panning out.   
  
Edgar made one final attempt for his case, as he met Twi’s gaze. “Just _think_ about it. Please, at least do that much,” Edgar requested. “I know you think it’s not safe for him to go, but…it might be better for him to go with you. I know you don’t like to think about it, but the akuma have come here before. And we don’t know how they’re slipping into the mortal realm through_ that_ barrier.”  
  
The words burned even as they slipped off of Edgar’s own tongue. It was a harsh reminder for him to give, but a necessary one. Whether Twi wanted to accept it or not, Edgar wasn’t just thinking about Alma’s happiness – he _was _thinking about their child’s safety as well.  
  
Edgar’s words had held some impact, as Twi went silent after. She looked pensive, and tense, though she appeared to be struggling to formulate a verbal response.  
  
Finally, she exhaled. “I’m going to get my things ready for tomorrow,” she said.  
  
Edgar didn’t say anything, as Twi walked past him. She exited the study swiftly, with the sound of her footsteps growing distant in Edgar’s ears.  
  
Quietly, Edgar sighed. He should have known that the conversation would have gone poorly.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma tapped his finger against the parchment, expression ruminative. He was currently in his room, lying on his back with his legs kicked up. The remains of sunlight spilled through the window, which was just beside Alma; he was lying back on the divan placed just below it, allowing for the warmth of sundown to kiss his skin.   
  
Exhaling, Alma sat upright. He glanced over across the room to where his bed was, where the golem remained perched on the edge. “I don’t even know what to write,” Alma said. “I mean, I could talk about how things are here, but it’s….just going to be the same as what I last wrote to Bak. Do you think that’d be annoying? He never responded to my last letter, but I mean, it’s probably because he’s busy, right?”  
  
The golem raised its wings in a shrug, before flying over to where Alma was. It perched itself at the opposite end of the divan, turning its body so that it was facing Alma.  
  
Alma placed the parchment down, having given up on writing anything. Normally, he wouldn’t have had such difficulty; Alma could chatter on about anything and everything, with a letter being no different. However, he just felt…_scattered._ Distracted. Focusing seemed oddly difficult, and no matter how hard Alma attempted to try, he just _couldn’t_.  
  
Bringing his knees up to his chest, Alma rested his arms on them. His attention shifted to the window, with the sky blending into a haze of dark pink and violet. Already, Alma could see several stars beginning to sprinkle the sky, like bits of golden dust sprawled above the heavens.  
  
“It’s already getting late,” Alma commented, more to himself that the golem. “Fou never came back like she said she would either…I wonder what happened?”  
  
The golem flapped its wings, and Alma turned back to it. “Well, she said she’d see me later, and Fou usually doesn’t disappear like that. Hopefully nothing’s wrong,” Alma said, before smiling at the golem. “I’m probably reading into things too much though, aren’t I? Fou does have a lot of responsibilities with looking over the barrier.”  
  
The golem again moved its wings, before it flew over to the windowsill. Along the outside of it were an array of flowers, including crocuses and hyacinths – all of which were bedded in a widow box. They were blue, purple, white, and yellow – all colorful, and vibrant.  
  
Alma watched the golem. “Do you want to be closer to the flowers?” he asked, amused by the thought alone.   
  
The golem didn’t linger near flowers, and in response flew out the window. Alma watched in confusion as it returned, before repeating its motion of flying back out again.   
  
The second time the golem flew back, it perched itself on the windowsill once more before nudging its wings outside.  
  
Alma blinked, still a bit perplexed as to what it was the golem was attempting to communicate. After a moment, Alma began to grasp it. “Oh…you mean have I been outside the barrier…?”  
  
The golem nodded its head in a “yes” motion.  
  
Alma hesitated, before shaking his head. “No, I’ve never been. My parents think it’s better for me to stay here,” he said, before quickly adding, “Ah, but they don’t mean anything badly by it! They just worry a lot.”  
  
The golem ruffled its wings a bit before taking flight – this time, returning to the divan where Alma was sitting. Resting its wings, the golem went still, before the top of its silvery body illuminated. A tiny flicker of light reflected, and the spot began to project what appeared to be a set of moving images above the golem.  
  
Alma stared, not having expected such a sight. He leaned forward as he tried to get a better look, when his eyes widened upon realizing what it was that the golem was showing him.   
  
“Are these all the places you’ve been?” Alma asked, both shocked and in awe. The image currently showing was illustrating what looked like an open valley, with several houses and roads below: a human settlement, by the looks of it.   
  
“That’s incredible!” Alma gushed, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You must have seen so much…can you show me some other places? I’d really love to see them!”  
  
The golem obliged, the image shifting once more. This time, rather than being out in a valley, Alma could see what looked to be some sort of city. The buildings were vast, and appeared as though they were built of silver and starlight, and even the roads appeared to be rimmed with ivory.  
  
Alma look, still wide-eyed and amazed. “Is that the Acropolis?” he asked, before he beamed ecstatically. “It’s so beautiful! Father gave me a book of illustrations with it, but I’ve never seen it like this before…wow, and there are so many other deities too…”  
  
The golem continued to show Alma some more images after that, further mesmerizing Alma. Since Alma had never left, the most he had ever seen was whatever illustrations he could find in books, or whatever he could read about. While such things had helped Alma to visualize the outside world, he had never really _seen_ it – not to this level, at least.   
  
Eventually, the light faded as the illustrations disappeared. The golem flapped its wings as it flew over to Alma, perching itself on his knee.  
  
Alma smiled at the golem. “Thanks for showing me – I’ve always wanted to see those places,” he said, the appreciation evident.   
  
The golem flapped its wings happily.  
  
Before Alma could say anything more, he felt a chill – possibly from a breeze. It was subtle, but distracted him all the same, causing him to look out of the window. By now, the sky was transitioning into a dark indigo, but there was still just enough light outside to see just fine.   
  
Alma’s eyes traced outside, where he could see the forest. The branches swayed gently in the breeze, with the flowers below quiet and still. Their colors remained richly pigmented despite the oncoming of nightfall, entrancing and beautiful to behold.  
  
Despite this, it wasn’t the flowers that held Alma’s attention. Instead, there was a small tug that caused him to search for something – to look for something that Alma knew was nearby, but not within his immediate sight.  
  
Vividly, the image of the dead patch flashed in Alma’s mind, and he felt another chill.  
  
Alma shivered. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly thinking about the dead patch again. It fortunately was far enough that he didn’t have to worry about seeing it from his window easily. But, Alma knew it was there. Alma knew it was close.  
  
Faintly, Alma thought he heard a whisper.  
  
Alma moved, carefully pulling back the glass windowpanes. He shut them, with the imagined whisper nothing more than a dying memory.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Twi hadn’t been able to focus the rest of the evening. Between the news of akuma trickling into the mortal realm, and the argument with Bak, Twi was _tired_. She was tired, and she was restless, with her mind refusing to shut up. It only continued to spin endlessly, spiraling her thoughts and her concerns like a string of iron thread – unbreakable, and sharp.  
  
Twi just wanted to find a way to deal with it all.  
  
She had arranged to leave the following day. Twi didn’t see any reason to wait; it was an urgent matter, and not one that Twi could stall on.   
  
She told herself this. She told herself this, and that Alma didn’t need to be involved.  
  
It wasn’t as easy a notion for her to accept as one might have thought. Twi was often iron-clad in her decisions, almost to where others would have called it a fault. She had especially been this way when it came to Alma.   
  
She had been this way, given all that had happened over ten years ago.   
  
_Breathing. He wasn’t breathing properly, with the infection having spread to his chest. His skin was pale, and in some places, beginning to darken.  
  
Twi was panicking. She was trying to hold Alma still, to keep him in place until Edgar returned. However, the child was struggling, fitful screams pouring from his lungs as his limbs thrashed about wildly.  
  
Twi gritted her teeth, as she created several more vines. “Just a little longer….” she pleaded, words a desperate whisper. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it though – she didn’t know how much longer she could take watching her child _suffer_…  
  
“Twi!” Edgar called, as he ran into the room. With him he was carrying several items: a clear crystal, some herbs, and a book. He clumsily placed them on the edge of the bed, motions frantic. “Twi, let me see him – I can start extracting it-“  
  
Another shrill scream bled into Twi’s ears, causing her to wince. She kept the vines in place though, so Alma was limited in his ability to move.   
  
Mutely, Twi nodded as she moved so that Edgar could begin working.  
  
The screams continued long into the night._  
  
Twi could never eradicate the memory. It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to – she could never burn the image from her mind, or the ice-cold fear she had felt during that time. Twi could never escape those memories.  
  
She exhaled, and glanced at the door. It was late, though she could see the light from beneath the door that led to Alma’s bedroom.  
  
Twi knew that Alma was disappointed. She had seen it during dinner, what with how he had been occasionally glancing between both her and Edgar, almost as though he had been silently hoping for something. However, the hope had dissipated as soon as it was brought up that Twi would be leaving to the Acropolis the next morning.  
  
Of course, Alma hadn’t spoken out about it. He had nodded his head, and said that he understood, without any mention of having hoped to go despite what Edgar had disclosed to Twi. In all honesty, this knowledge only made Twi feel more leaden with guilt – and it was that guilt that had led her to Alma’s door in that moment.  
  
It was that guilt that had driven her to make this decision.  
  
Taking a final breath, Twi knocked, the sound both gentle and firm. From inside the room, she could hear someone moving, before Alma finally opened the door.  
  
Alma stared, looking rather caught off guard to see his mother there. “Mother, is everything okay?” Alma asked, sounding worried. “It’s so late…I thought you needed to leave tomorrow?”  
  
“It’s fine,” Twi reassured, before glancing inside Alma’s bedroom. Several candles were lit to keep the room illuminated, and she could see a few books sprawled out on Alma’s bed, several left open and in a bit of a disarray. “I see you’re not going to bed anytime soon….”  
  
Alma blushed, as he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry – I’ve been reading and got a bit carried away,” He admitted.  
  
Twi nodded her head toward the room. “May I come in?”  
  
“Oh, sure!” Alma chirped, before going back to move some books off of the bed. As Alma did, Twi caught a glimpse of them as she entered into the room; many of them were books about other places, with some geographical and others containing maps.  
  
Inside, Twi felt another stab of guilt.  
  
Once the bed was cleared off, Alma sat down. He looked at his mother curiously. “So…is everything okay?” he asked.  
  
Twi looked over at Alma. “Your father spoke to me earlier,” she said, carefully gaging Alma’s reaction. “About you asking to visit the Acropolis.”  
  
Alma stilled, and immediately averted his gaze. “Um…” he began to say, fumbling with his words before he could get a coherent sentence out. “I…”  
  
Twi watched. She could see the unease begin to fester in Alma, as he continued to avoid eye contact nervously. Quietly, Twi walked over, before taking a seat next to Alma on the bed. She didn’t say anything at first, with the silence weighing between them. Twi continued to glance over at Alma though, who seemed strangely fixated on the corner of his bed.  
  
“You know we haven’t let you go for a reason,” Twi reminded Alma. “It’s not because we’re punishing you – we just want you to be safe. And it’s not always safe outside of here.”  
  
Alma still kept his gaze averted. “I know, but…Bak was eighteen when he got to go…”  
  
“That was _different_,” Twi emphasized. “And there are reasons we haven’t let you visit.”  
  
“But why?” Alma finally asked, as he turned to face Twi. “You and Father always say that, but it’s not like I want to leave here _permanently_ – I just want to visit!”  
  
Twi exhaled, already feeling a little exasperated by the conversation. She met Alma’s gaze. “I know,” she said, attempting to remain patient. “But right now, there are some tense affairs, and it’s a serious matter I have to attend to at the Acropolis – your brother and grandfather will likely be tied up with it as well.”  
  
Shoulders slumping, Alma looked away in defeat. There was a disheartened look in his eyes, and it was enough to send a fresh wave of regret throughout Twi.  
  
Bringing her fingers to her forehead, she sighed as she massaged them gently. “I did think about what your father said after dinner, from when I spoke with him earlier,” Twi spoke, breaking the silence once more. Lowered her fingers, she looked at Alma seriously. “And…perhaps he is right. Maybe it would be alright for you to come this time.”  
  
Alma looked up, completely shocked by his mother’s words. Had he heard her incorrectly?   
  
“Really?” Alma asked, the disbelief leaking into his voice. It was swiftly followed with a rush of childish excitement, as his eyes lit up. “I can really go!?”  
  
Quickly, Twi sighed. She could already feel Alma getting ahead of himself, and she was swift to re-ground him. “You can – but on the condition that if _anything_ concerning happens you return here immediately. I don’t want you wandering around either.”  
  
Alma nodded his head, quick to agree to the terms. “Yes, that’s okay!” Alma exclaimed, excitement bubbling over.  
  
Twi stood up after that. “Alright,” she said. “Try to get some rest – we’ll need to leave by noon tomorrow.”  
  
Alma nodded his head again, eyes bright. “I will!” he said, though the exuberance in his voice made it difficult to believe that he would calm down _anytime_ soon.  
  
Despite this realization, Twi felt her expression soften at the sight. In some ways, it was endearing to see Alma so excited – however, at the same time, it came with the painful reminder of _why_ he was so excited.  
  
Sucking in a breath, Twi forced the thought from her mind. She couldn’t allow herself to think about that now.  
  
If she thought about it too long, she’d only convince herself that this was a mistake.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The air was cold, and it was dark.  
  
It was always dark there – it was always an endless see of crushed onyx, with the sky a pool of inky velvet. There was never any sunshine, and there was never any warmth – it was a just a dark, never-ending caverns. A place where the sky was nothing more than the underside of the earth, and the stars were nothing more than crushed gems and geodes.  
  
It was always dark in the Underworld.  
  
Tyki had become used to it by now. The darkness. The void. The eternal night had in a way become a source of comfort; the shadows were plentiful, and offered a source of concealment that had become close to a crutch. The Noah had always gravitated toward the darkness, even before their confinement.  
  
Still – this made the imprisonment no less degrading.  
  
Tyki watched, his eyes staring out the window as his vision adjusted to the darkness. Molten gold irises peered outward, taking in the stretch of land below: a dark, hedge-like maze spiraling outward, before it disappeared into rocky and mountainous terrain. In the distance, twisted and spiraling structures could be see outside the hedge maze, as a convolution of a city that looked distorted and abstract.  
  
“Tykiiiii.”  
  
Tyki glanced back, as the singsong voice spilled into his ears. It was silvery, and bell-like: a childish tremor to mask something else, and to mask something that Tyki understood well.  
  
“Yeah?” Tyki asked, as he leaned back against the window, his elbows resting on the ledge.  
  
The girl smiled. She was young, and looked as though she had just crossed into early adolescence; her body was petite, and doll-like, with large amber-gold eyes that held a sharp glint in them.  
  
That glint, Tyki knew, was nothing sort of malicious.  
  
Smile still in place, the girl spoke. “Guess what I just heard,” she said, her teeth a stark, pearly white.  
  
Tyki sighed, and he leaned back further – so much that his head was hanging out the window. “I don’t feel like playing any guessing games, Road – what is it?”  
  
“Aw, Tyki, you’re not as fun as you used to be,” Road complained, as she rolled her eyes. “You could at the very least indulge me – or else I’m going to have to start spending more time with Fiidora.”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “Go ahead – I like Fiidora, so I wouldn’t blame you,” he responded nonchalantly.  
  
Road scowled, expression turning into an annoyed pout. “Ugh, Tyki, you’re so _boring_ today,” she said, as she leaned back against the doorframe. She rolled onto her heels, as she exhaled in exasperation. “But I _guess _I can tell you even if you’re going to be lame and not play…”  
  
Tyki brought himself back up, as he continued to slouch back against the window. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?” he promised. “I’ll give you some teases to use – I’m sure you’d have fun with those.”  
  
Road’s mouth stretched into a grin, immediately appeased by the offer.  
  
“So, what is it you came all the way here to tell me?” Tyki asked. Although there was a languid way to how he pressed the question, there was still a hint of intrigue in his eyes. However, it was small – Tyki rarely actually heard anything interesting these days.  
  
Road’s smile only broadened. “The Order sent a message today,” she said. “Apparently they’re _very_ unhappy with us right now_._”  
  
Tyki chuckled, the sound dry. “That’s nothing new,” Tyki said.  
  
“I’m not done,” Road sang, voice silvery. “They said they want to meet with us – well, at least one of us. To ‘re-visit some things.’ Lord Millennium already asked Sheril to go – ugh, I don’t really care for that boring diplomacy, but I’d _kill _to go.”  
  
This caught Tyki’s attention. He looked at Road, somewhat caught off guard by the information – however, the intrigue he felt simmered, and a smile slowly appeared on his face.   
  
“That is something,” Tyki acknowledged. “They must be pretty pissed to actually summon any of us out of this hellhole….”  
  
“That,” Road said, as her eyes glinted in the darkness. "Or they’ve finally caught on – maybe they’ll finally see things our way. I doubt they’ve been enjoying the little messengers we’ve been sending up there.”  
  
Tyki laughed. “Maybe,” he said, though Tyki personally wasn’t convinced.  
  
Road kicked her heel against the ground, before she pushed herself off of the doorframe. “Oh – Lord Millennium wants you to go with Sheril, by the way,” Road added. “Lucky you – I have to be stuck here.”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he said, before grinning. “Well, that’s a surprise.”  
  
“Don’t rub it in,” Road clipped, as she eyed Tyki. “But when you come back, I want to know _everything._”  
  
Tyki’s smile remained, even as Road walked away. Of all things, Tyki certainly hadn’t expected _that_ – but the surprise had been more pleasant than anything else. Already, it had broken the mundane, repetitive rhythm that Tyki had started to fall into, and might have been just the change he needed.  
  
If anything, the next few days would be much more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Magician: Willpower | Desire | Creation | Trickery | Illusions | Out of Touch
> 
> Happy Halloween! =^o^=
> 
> I realize that I kicked off this fic for Rare Pair Week 2019 with it being pitched as an Alma x Tyki fic, but of course, they still haven’t even interacted yet. But up until now we’ve gotten a lot of Twi and Edgar, and they count as a rare pair, right? So it’s not a total fail in terms of rare pair content. X3
> 
> Again, I just always struggle with Twi. I honestly rewrote parts of this chapter (and the last one even) so many times, just because she’s not necessarily the most predictable character. As I noted last time, she /does/ feel a level of remorse for how much she and Edgar keep Alma locked down, but the fear of whatever happened all those years ago is enough to drive her to keep doing so. 
> 
> At the same time, I needed to get Alma to the Acropolis for what’s coming up – so I had Edgar pitch the reasoning of “you’ll worry less if he’s close by.” I’m hoping given the circumstances this logic made sense while reading. It did to me and from what I’ve shared with others seems to, but damn, I’ve worked on this fic for so long I’m desensitized at this point.
> 
> But! We finally got a snippet of Tyki, and ahahaha, it looks like he’ll be visiting the Acropolis soon as well. Needless to say, there’s going to be an interaction coming up soon and I’m excited to get to it. (Also because it will definitely be picking up the next few chapters!)
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	5. The Acropolis

Alma hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He had been too wound up after his mother had told him that he would be able to go to the Acropolis with her, with his heart thudding in his chest excitably. There was just no way Alma had been able to calm down, with his mind racing and his body completely wired. At best, Alma had maybe gotten a few hours asleep – but even after that, he still felt a boundless rush of energy the following morning.  
  
Alma waited outside, excitement buzzing within him. He was dressed in a simple chiton like what he often wore, with the pale fabric light despite the hem of the skirt reaching his ankles. Because the sleeves were nothing more than straps, he did have a small cloak draped over his shoulders to keep on until he and his mother reached their destination.  
  
Continuing to wait outside, Alma kicked his foot against the ground, desperate to relieve some excess energy. He admittedly couldn’t remember the last time he felt_ this_ thrilled – maybe, the first time his father had gotten him a picture book that displayed other places outside the barrier? Alma wasn’t sure, but he wanted to relish in the moment.  
  
Fou stared, as she stood outside beside Alma. “You might want to calm down a little – you look like you’re going to explode or something.”  
  
Alma turned to Fou, beaming. “Yeah, well I’m just _excited_,” he said, as a giddy rush of joy bubbled into his words. “It’s my first time actually going somewhere – I can’t wait to see what it’s like!”  
  
“Well, don’t get your hopes up _too_ much – otherwise you’ll probably be disappointed,” Fou said, though the words weren’t necessarily as harsh as they were warning. She placed her hands on her hips, as she looked at Alma curiously. “I am surprised that your mother even is letting you go when she’ll be tied up with political things…”  
  
“I know, right? I couldn’t even believe it!” Alma gushed on, eyes bright with joy. “I mean, she wants me to not wander around and said I would have to return if anything bad happened…but I can’t think of what would? It’ll be great, I’m sure of it!”  
  
“Your optimism is boundless,” Fou said, as she leaned against one of the pillars of the front of the estate.  
  
Alma’s expression remained bright, with the childish giddiness still evident on his face. On his left shoulder, the silver golem remained perched. Alma reached over with a finger to tap it playfully. “I’m glad I get to spend a little more time with you, too.”  
  
The golem ruffled its wings slightly, before further nestling itself into the crook of Alma’s neck.  
  
While Alma and Fou remained outside, Twi watched. She was in the doorway of the estate’s front entrance, also ready to leave. She didn’t have to take much, and was dressed in a long, dark emerald-colored peplum. A thin cloak was draped over her shoulders, though she hesitated to step outside, and a pensive look rested on her face.  
  
Edgar approached from behind her. Even without seeing her expression, a knowing look appeared in his eyes, and he smiled gently. “It’ll be fine – stop worrying so much,” he said, as he placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Twi released a silent breath. “I’m not worrying too much – I’m just _concerned_,” she corrected, the denial digging itself stubbornly into her core. “I’m not sure about this…”  
  
Edgar hummed. “Twi, it’ll be fine – besides, Alma’s too excited now,” he reminded Twi, before nodding over to where Alma was with Fou. “He won’t have to sit in any meetings, so you don’t need to worry about him getting tied up into politics either. Zuu and Bak will be there, too.”  
  
Closing her eyes, Twi nodded. She knew that Edgar was right, and that she was being more overzealous in her protectiveness than what was probably necessary. The fact that they already had family at the Acropolis _was_ going to be a good thing and should have reassured her. However, a chill of fear continued to prickle at her spine, clouding her mind with uncertainty and doubt.  
  
Fine. It would be _fine_ – the Order took more than enough precautious to keep the Acropolis protected. And it wasn’t as though as Alma was going alone – Twi would be there, and if anything went awry, she could send him back home.   
  
Turning, Twi faced Edgar. “Keep an eye out – if anything _at all_ goes wrong, I’m going to make sure Alma comes back straight away. I’m not risking anything.”  
  
Edgar sighed, and nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “But try not to send him home at the first hiccup – this is his first time out, and he’s _excited_.”  
  
“I’ll do what I have to,” Twi reiterated, tone firm. She glanced over to where Alma was, and could see that he had a joyous energy to him, vibrant and even a little impatient. She exhaled, realizing that she couldn’t stall any longer; regardless of Alma’s presence causing her to pause, Twi needed to get to the Acropolis.  
  
Glancing back at Edgar, Twi spoke. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised.  
  
Edgar nodded, before placing a tender kiss on Twi’s lips. It was small, and quick, but its sweetness remained all the same. “Alright,” Edgar said, as he pulled back with a smile.  
  
Twi’s eyes softened, and a hint of a smile tugged at her lips.  
  
Leaving the doorway, Twi approached where Alma was. She looked at him expectantly, already knowing the answer he would give before she could ask her inquiry. “Ready?” she asked.  
  
Alma turned, and nodded his head eagerly. “Uh huh,” he said, as the silver golem remained perched on his shoulders.  
  
Hearing this, Twi re-directed her attention to Fou. “We should return within a few days depending on how things go,” she said. “Please keep an eye on things – I’ve already asked Edgar to send word if anything happens.”  
  
Fou nodded.  
  
Twi glanced at the ground, before motioning for Alma to stand close to where she was. “Stay here, Alma – make sure not to move while I open a portal.”  
  
Alma’s eyes grew alert, as excitement brimmed within them. He had seen his parents use portals before, but until now, Alma had never been able to experience traveling via one himself. The process was done using an old magic which helped to reduce travel time by swiftly transporting from one location to another – almost similar to what Fou did on a regular basis.  
  
Doing as instructed, Alma watched as his mother began to focus. He only became distracted for a fleeting moment when he caught sight of his father watching from the front end of the estate.   
  
Quickly, Alma waved to Edgar. “Bye!”  
  
Twi focused. She closed her eyes, as she exhaled softly. As she did, a soft glow appeared beneath her feet, before a rim of teal light spiraled out beneath both her and Alma. It illuminated, as its brightness increased, the light stretching upward so that encircled Twi and Alma.   
  
Then, as it brightened, Alma watched. He stared in complete awe as the light became opaque – just as their surroundings dissolved around them.  
  
Alma stared with wide eyes. He had already began to forget his mother’s warning to keep still, as he turned in complete fascination. The lights were beautiful, almost like an aurora borealis; they shimmered around Alma and Twi, dancing like a medley of pastels and watercolor. Absolutely transfixed, Alma’s eyes sparkled with admiration.  
  
Twi glanced up, a small frown appearing on her face. “Stay in the circle, Alma,” she chided, voice stern.  
  
Realizing that he was getting too close to the edge, Alma took a step back toward the center obediently. However, the awe in his expression remained, as he continued to watch the lights swirl around them.  
  
It was a few moments before the lights began to fade, their vibrancy diminishing into a pale, translucent sheen. Faintly, Alma began to see the silhouettes of shapes and structures surround where they were. The images began to manifest, as though seeping through a veil of iridescence. Walls began to appear, and pillars of silver…  
  
Gradually, their surroundings grew in clarity so much that Alma could distinguish just where they were. He had seen illustrations, and heard the descriptions countless times by both his parents, and even his brother on the few occasions he had returned home to visit. And most recently, Alma had actually seen an _illusion_ of it – the one that the golem had shown him only a day prior.  
  
_‘It’s…so beautiful…’_ Alma thought, as he was left completely speechless as he and Twi appeared at their destination.   
  
They had made it to the Acropolis.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The citadel was vast. It was easily the most impressive structure in the Acropolis, welded into the highest point of the mountain that the city rested upon. Its walls stretched up high, with glass-smooth pillars and a floor that looked as though it were built of marble and ice, glistening like an undisturbed body of water. The halls were long and winding, and the rooms numerous – to a stranger, it would have been easy to get turned around in the grandeur of the citadel.  
  
Often, Bak found it overwhelming.   
  
He never said this aloud. Bak wouldn’t dare to do such a thing, when it would only garner negative attention. Already, Bak was at a disadvantage; he was one of the youngest deities to act as a council member in the Order, and hardly had any merit other than his family name. While that might have helped, it wasn’t secure. Bak knew that the only reason the other deities seemed to tolerate him was due to his grandfather’s presence.  
  
Needless to say, dealing with the Order was a frustrating experience.  
  
An itch tickled the back of Bak’s neck, and he fought the urge to scratch it. He hadn’t heard a response yet from his parents, though he knew that by now the golem should have found them. Already, Bak could imagine their distress at having received such a message. He knew it was a busy time for them, what with the humans getting ready for a harvest, but there was nothing that could be done now.  
  
Bak took a few steps, periodically pacing in one of the citadel’s cabinet rooms. He had a surplus of energy, mostly agitated from the last meeting Bak had been in. Despite it already having been several days, the image of the akuma lingered vividly, with its wretched appearance having been branded into Bak’s mind.  
  
_‘Revolting…’_ Bak thought, as he repressed a chill. _‘And there have been more of them? It doesn’t make sense….they shouldn’t be able to enter the mortal realm freely…’_  
  
There was a knock at the door, before it opened. Bak turned, just as he spied a man in the doorway.  
  
He was a gruff-looking individual, tall and with a broad build. The man was older as well, with somewhat wrinkled skin and a shock of white hair. It was a strange hairstyle with the sides each splitting into a spike, while his sideburns stretched down into a beard. He was also dressed in a pale robe, with long sleeves and a crest in the shape of a rose cross on his left breast.  
  
Bak looked at the man curiously. “Wong – what is it?”  
  
Wong met Bak’s gaze. “There’s been an arrival at the gatehouse – I believe it’s your mother.”  
  
Bak stilled, somewhat caught off guard. He hadn’t expected his mother to come so swiftly, much less without having sent word prior. However, he nodded his head, as he prepared to leave. “I see – I should go see her then.”  
  
As Bak started to walk, Wong stopped him. “Ah, sir! Sir, your neck – it should be treated,” Wong pointed out, having noticed the small, red bumps on Bak’s neck.  
  
Immediately, Bak’s face flushed, and he internally cursed the nervous reaction he had experienced. “I-It’s nothing!” he stammered, though the itch only seemed to worsen from the stress.  
  
“But, sir, you should take care of it before your mother sees it,” Wong advised.  
  
Bak brushed off Wong, despite the man’s good-natured attempts to only help. “It’s fine – really,” Bak reassured him, as he adjusted the collar of his tunic. He had been careful to always make sure to dress more conservatively; the periodic rashes were but one more sign of a weakness that Bak wasn’t eager to showcase. An annoying side effect from certain spells and forms of sorcery was all it was. It was nothing more, and in time, something that Bak would eventually build an immunity to.  
  
That was what he had been told, at least.  
  
Not wanting to wait, Bak left the study with Wong in tow. They trekked through the halls quietly, as they periodically passed individuals cloaked in red. Their faces were obstructed by masks, all of which were black and resembled a bird-like beak, but Bak recognized them immediately: CROWs.  
  
Bak ignored them. He had never been fond of the CROWs, even if their existence was deemed necessary by the Order’s standards. The name alone sent an unpleasant shiver up Bak’s spine, with the name no more than an abbreviation for what CROWs stood for: containment, reinforcement, observation, and withholding. All of which were the qualities necessary to complete their tasks.  
  
To Bak, it only caused them to appear all the more unsettling.  
  
Whether he was aware of Bak’s unease or not, Wong did not comment as they passed the CROWs. Instead, he posed a somewhat conversational question. “It’s been some time since you’ve seen your parents, hasn’t it?”  
  
Bak nodded. “It’s…been a while,” He said, as he tried to recall when he had last seen them. Admittedly, it had been longer than he would have liked. However, considering how tied up Bak had gotten with being at the Acropolis, he hadn’t had many opportunities to leave. It didn’t help that his parents were so pre-occupied with their duties either.  
  
“I see,” Wong said, before eying Bak carefully. “You also have a brother, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, just the one,” Bak clarified, as they continued on. As he said this aloud, he felt a pinch of guilt. He had received a letter several weeks ago from his younger brother, but had never gotten around to responding. Silently, Bak wondered if he even still had the letter – knowing his luck, it likely had gotten lost or discarded by mistake.  
  
Wong nodded, but didn’t say anymore after that.  
  
The walk to the gatehouse didn’t talk long, likely due to the brisk pace at which Bak walked. His insides had been knotted up ever since he had sent that letter to his parents, with the memories from the last council meeting simmering in his mind unpleasantly.   
  
The barrier – the Order wanted to re-evaluate the _barrier_ of all things. It was something that was extensive, as well draining. It was no small task, and the thought alone was enough to stress Bak out for the remainder of his existence.  
  
Eventually, Bak and Wong exited the main entrance of the citadel. The passed a few lower-ranking guards, with these individuals dressed in pale blue – a differentiation from the more specialized CROWs. While they were reserved, these guards were not as offsetting as the CROWs were, as they did not wear masks and only kept their hoods up.  
  
As Bak walked by them, he frowned. There seemed to be more guards stationed than normal – including the CROWs. While it wasn’t necessarily strange, it did stand out to Bak.  
  
Shaking his head, Bak turned as he saw near the gate’s entrance where several more regular guards were. There were about three of them, appearing to be talking to two individuals. From a distance, Bak couldn’t make out the details at first, though he soon enough recognized the first person as his mother.  
  
Picking up his pace, Bak walked over to the group. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before the words could come out. Surprise flickered in his pale, gray eyes, as his attention landed on the second individual who had seemingly just arrived.  
  
Alma glanced over past the guards, and his face lit up upon spying Bak. “Hi, Bak!” Alma chirped, as the silver golem fluttered beside him.  
  
Bak faltered, for a moment not being able to get over the shock of seeing his younger brother _there_ of all places. “Um…”  
  
One of the guards turned to Bak, and addressed him. “They just arrived-“  
  
“I see that,” Bak said, as he tried to shake off the surprise swiftly. “Would you let know the let the rest of the Order know so they’re aware?”  
  
The guards nodded, before departing back toward the citadel.  
  
Once the guards were gone, Bak returned his attention to Twi and Alma. “I didn’t realize you’d come so quickly,” Bak admitted, before his attention flickered over to Alma in particular. “Or that _you _would be coming…?”  
  
Alma laughed, the sound startlingly light despite the circumstances. “Are you surprised?” he asked, words playful.   
  
Before Bak could say anything, the silver golem flew over to where Bak was. Bak stared at it, before speaking. “Glad you made it back,” he murmured, before nodding his head off to the side. “Return to the other golems.”  
  
The golem obliged, but fluttered over to Alma one last time, giving him a small nuzzle. Alma smiled at it gently. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said to the golem.  
  
The golem hummed, before flying off to elsewhere in the Acropolis.  
  
With the golem having left, Twi spoke, addressing Bak’s previous statement. “I imagined the sooner we got here, the better – it didn’t seem like anything that could wait.”  
  
Bak nodded, before motioning to Wong. “Ah, this is Sammo Han Wong. He’s a magic practitioner who has been working with Grandfather and I. Wong, this is my mother, Twi, and brother, Alma.”  
  
Alma smiled and Twi offered a polite nod. She then looked at Bak curiously. “Where is your grandfather now?”  
  
“He was speaking to Lvellier and Renee,” Bak answered, though he did not go into anymore detail. His eyes flashed over to Alma briefly, before he changed the subject. “Here – I can show you to some rooms.”  
  
They all started walking after that with Bak and Twi a bit ahead. Alma trailed behind near where Wong was, though his attention was scattered. With never having been to Acropolis before, everything was a sight to behold; the citadel especially was astounding, with everything from the walls to the floor capturing Alma’s interest.  
  
Bak glanced back, where he saw Alma staring about like some wide-eyed child in awe. His attention then shifted to Twi, where he spoke quietly. “You brought Alma with you?”  
  
“I did,” Twi answered simply.  
  
Bak’s lips pressed together. He had never been one to question his parent’s decision, let alone his mother’s. However, Bak found him struggling to understand just what had caused his mother to make such a decision.   
  
"Are you...sure that is such a good idea?" Bak asked, still keeping his volume low so that Alma wouldn't hear him.  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed over to Bak. There was a warning look in them, and immediately Bak shut his mouth. However, Twi didn’t snap and only looked forward calmly. “Your father and I decided that with what was going on, it would be better to bring Alma here,” she said “I don’t intend to let him get involved with any meetings – he’s just here to visit for the time being.”  
  
Bak nodded, though the rationale still surprised him. He couldn’t recall his parents _ever_ letting Alma leave home before.  
  
Just a bit behind Bak and Twi, Alma walked, though he kept slowing periodically. It was hard for him not to, with his attention continuously getting diverted. Alma couldn’t help but stare as they entered into the citadel, with its interior being just as splendid as its exterior.   
  
Amazement glimmered in Alma’s eyes, as he noticed several gleaming pillars in particular. He quickly realized he was falling behind though, and rushed to catch up to where the others were.  
  
Glancing over, Wong noticed the way Alma kept looking about their surroundings. Interest piqued by the reaction, Wong spoke. “You like the citadel?”  
  
Alma looked back at Wong and nodded eagerly. “It’s so incredible,” Alma said. “I’ve always wanted to see it, and I’ve seen illustrations, but that was nothing compared to what it _actually _looks like!”  
  
A small smile appeared on Wong’s, causing the harshness of his features to diminish. “Ah, well I’m glad you like it. I don’t see too many people get excited so often.”  
  
The excitement remained in Alma’s eyes, as he continued to glance around the inside of the citadel. Even the halls were astounding to behold; Alma simply couldn’t stop staring at the details of the architecture, and the sheer _beauty_ of it all.  
  
Glancing around, Alma paused. As they had continued through the halls, Alma took notice of several of the red-cloaked individuals and their strange, beak-like masks. Intrigue blossomed in his eyes, and again, Alma found himself staring. The masked strangers were eerie, and caused a slight chill to spill to trickle down his spine.  
  
Taking note of how Alma’s attention had diverted, Wong spoke. “Those are the CROWs,” he pointed out. “They’re specialized guards – it might be best not to stare at them though.”  
  
Alma’s face heated a bit in embarrassment, and he swiftly looked away from the CROWs. He silently scolded himself for being so rude; it was one thing to stare at his surroundings, but another thing entirely to stare at _people_. Alma realized he would need to be warier – he didn’t want to do anything to cause disgrace to his family.  
  
However, the image of the CROWs burned in Alma’s mind. While he had occasionally heard his parents refer to them, he had never had any idea what they looked like until now.   
  
“Why do they wear those masks?” Alma asked, voice a bit quieter. “Do they have to?”  
  
“It’s standard, yes,” Wong said. “The masks are…protective in a way. It helps the CROWs to perform their assignments more efficiently.”  
  
Alma blinked. The answer was a bit vague, and there was a slightly particular way about how Wong had answered. If anything, it didn’t little to satiate Alma’s intrigue. Just what was it the CROWs did, exactly? Were the masks created by magic? The questions lingered at the tip of Alma’s tongue, and he could already feel the words threatening to slip out.  
  
“Here we are,” Bak said, cutting off Alma’s thoughts before they could fester any longer. “These chambers are close to where Grandfather and I are – we can send some attendants to help with any additional accommodations.”  
  
“Thank you – these will do just fine,” Twi said. “Do you know when your grandfather will be done meeting with Lvellier and Sahlins?”  
  
“Likely soon,” Bak answered. “I can take you to where they’re meeting.”  
  
Twi nodded. “That would be good,” she said, before turning to Alma. “Alma – stay here and get settled in. It shouldn’t take us long.”  
  
“Can I at least look around?” Alma asked. He could already see a disapproving look appear in his mother’s eyes, before he added, “We just got here, and I’ve never been before!”  
  
Twi exhaled. While Alma’s curiosity was innocent in nature, it wasn’t ideal. “Yes, you _haven’t_ been here before – it’s easy to get lost, and you shouldn’t be wandering around,” she chided.  
  
Alma fought a wince. The way his mother had scolded him had admittedly been a bit embarrassing, especially in front of Bak and Wong. But, was Twi really going to expect Alma to have to stay put in his room all day? Alma didn’t want to make a scene, but the thought was disheartening. What would have been the point of coming to the Acropolis if he couldn’t even _see_ much of anything?  
  
Quietly, Bak glanced over Twi. He was hesitant to get involved, if only because he didn’t want to spiral any disagreements further. However, Bak felt a tug of sympathy for Alma, and quietly tossed a glance toward Wong.  
  
Not missing Bak’s signal, Wong cleared his throat. “Ah, if I may, I could always show him around? My presence isn’t required elsewhere,” Wong offered.  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed to Wong, and for a moment, she looked as though she were about to shut down the idea. But, before she could, Bak spoke up.  
  
“It may be a good use of time,” Bak pointed out. “Besides – with all those guards around, there’s not much that could go wrong.”  
  
Twi exhaled. Between Wong’s offer and the painfully _hopeful_ look Alma was shooting her, Twi was begrudgingly backed into a corner. She realized that considering how secure the Acropolis was, Alma technically_ should_ have been fine with an escort. However, the logic grated against her maternal instincts, which Twi had to pry away with great effort.  
  
Finally, Twi forced a nod. “Very well,” she agreed.  
  
Eyes lighting up, Alma’s mouth stretched into a vibrant smile. “Thank you!” he exclaimed, exuberance having returned full-force.   
  
Twi and Bak departed after with, with Twi having gotten in one final reminder to Alma _not_ to wander off. While Alma minded the warning, he didn’t let his mother’s sternness get to him; he was too turned around in his own eagerness, and couldn’t wait to see more of his new environment.  
  
Wong turned to Alma, once it was just the two of them. “Is there anywhere specific you’d like to go? The citadel alone could take a while to get through.”  
  
“Anywhere is great!” Alma said, not even necessarily caring _where_ specifically they went. “Really – I’d just like to see as much as possible!”  
  
Wong nodded, as he smiled. “Well, we better start moving then.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Wong can be trusted.”  
  
Twi turned, as he she heard Bak’s words. She frowned. “I never said he couldn’t.”  
  
Bak sighed. “No, but you may as well have,” he said. “Mother, you don’t _have _to worry. Besides, Alma’s old enough to take care of himself.”  
  
Twi’s lips remained pursed into a thin line, as her brows creased. “I never said that either,” she pointed out. “But it’s not a familiar area, and your brother has never been anywhere by himself before.”  
  
Bak turned, as he looked at his mother questioningly. “So….why did you bring him here?” Bak asked. “I have to say I’m surprised…”  
  
Hesitating, Twi kept walking. They were both currently heading down a corridor, just nearing the meeting room where Zuu, Lvellier, and Sahlins were meeting. Twi kept her focus forward.   
  
“I didn’t want him anywhere where another…incident could happen,” Twi finally answered, keeping her voice quiet. “So your father and I thought it would be safer here until this...issue has been resolved.”  
  
Hearing this, the rationale clicked. Bak also looked forward. “You mean about the akumas….”  
  
Of course. Bak should have realized that had been the reason. The threat of akumas looming close near the mortals, and potentially near where his family remained – _of course_ that would have been alarming to his parents.   
  
A slight twitch tickled Bak’s skin. “Even with the akumas having appeared, that doesn’t mean they would do what they did before,” Bak said, as he eyed his mother warily. “What happened eleven years ago-“  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Twi spoke, words harsh. “The akuma are somehow leaving the Underworld, and we need to learn how. Before anything else happens.”  
  
Twi’s tone was sharp, and cutting. There was a notable directness as well – the kind that caused the tone of the conversation to feel more business-like than familial.   
  
Bak didn’t miss this. Exhaling, he nodded his head in understanding.  
  
The rest of the walk continued in silence after that. Neither Twi nor Bak exchanged glances, with both keeping their attention forward and focused. Soon enough, they reached the end of the corridor, which was a bit more isolated from the rest of the citadel.   
  
They stopped walking, just as they came to a tall pair of doors. They were a vibrant shade of lapis lazuli blue, made from what appeared to be a glazed material. The doors were strange though, as there were no handles – there were only spiral grooves, which no normal person could use to push or pull open.  
  
Bak approached the door. He brought his hand up to place it on the material, the door cold beneath his touch. Bak watched, just as the spirals on the door illuminated. As they brightened into a vibrant cerulean, he stepped back, just as the doors opened.  
  
The door creaked heavily, the sound loud and echoing into the chamber. Inside, one could see that the space was circular; the walls were high, and the ceiling above was coiffured into a dome. There was not much décor, as tall, thin pillars could be seen a long the edge of the wall as more of a frieze than a functioning architectural piece, and in the room was a single, circular table.  
  
At the table was Zuu, Lvellier, and Renee.  
  
The arrival had not gone unnoticed, as all three of them stood. Zuu was the first to speak, as he approached to meet Bak and Twi.  
  
“Twi,” he said, with more a familial warmth to his voice. “I knew that Bak had written you, but didn’t realize you’d arrive so quickly.”  
  
“I didn’t see any reason to wait,” Twi answered, before his attention flickered over to where Lvellier and Renee were. “Especially considering the nature of what’s been happening…”  
  
“Your timing is impeccable,” Lvellier stated, as he gave Twi a nod of approval. “We’d like to begin to deal with the situation immediately, and with you here, we can more easily move forward.”  
  
Twi looked at Lvellier, eyes hard. “To re-evaluate the barriers will take time – or do you have any leads as to what areas the akuma may have slipped through?”  
  
“As of now, we can’t find anything specifically,” Lvellier answered. “Which is why we’ve summoned a few more individuals here.”  
  
Twi raised a brow. She wasn’t sure who it was that Lvellier would have needed to summon; it was only her family who handled the barriers. From the corner of Twi’s eye, she could see that her son was equally perplexed.  
  
Quickly spying the confusion, Renee took a step forward. Her short, silvery-blonde hair glinted in the lighting of the room, and was her skin looked pale enough to be mistaken for ivory. “We’ve summoned two of the Noah here – to see if they will speak to this.”  
  
Twi froze, her expression shocked. Time appeared to freeze for a moment, as the space around her had fallen eerily silent. At first, Twi wondered if she had been mistaken in understanding Renee; however, no one spoke, and as Twi looked upon their expressions, she realized that they were indeed serious. Even Bak, who had not uttered a sound, looked completely taken aback.  
  
Alarm coursing through Twi, she re-focused her attention back on Lvellier. “You cannot be serious?” Twi questioned, as her eyes burned incredulously. “The Noah will not cooperate – they never have, and they are _dangerous_. They shouldn’t even be allowed outside the parameters of the Underworld!”  
  
“The Noah are _powerless_,” Lvellier emphasized. “A part of their imprisonment is that even when permitted to leave the Underworld they are stripped of their powers – they can do no harm in the higher realms.”  
  
”Just as the _akuma _are to be contained by the barriers?” Twi challenged. “That clearly isn’t the case, and it is rash to consider the Noah are any less of a threat than they have ever been.”  
  
“Twi,” Zuu spoke, as he tried to quell anyone’s words from escalating. “I understand this must seem extreme, but considering the situation, we must question them. They will not be able to use any of their powers while in our containment.”  
  
Twi turned to Zuu. Her eyes hardened, as she appeared to realize something. “You authorized this?” she asked, her tone turning frosty.  
  
Zuu wavered. He could feel his daughter’s anger, and even more, her betrayal. It was there, planted in the earth like a blade of ice, and for a moment Zuu felt a twinge of remorse. However, he nodded his head in confirmation.  
  
Lvellier looked between them, expression annoyed. “If we can continue this _civilly_, then I’d like to press forward. I think we can agree that none of us are here to waste time.”  
  
Disapproval lingered in Twi’s expression, but she said nothing more. She deliberately refused to look at Zuu though, and her body was tense.  
  
Bak swallowed. He had not said anything up until this point, with the shock of the news having overtaken him just as much as it had his mother. “When…when will they be arriving?” he asked, as he attempted to keep his voice steady.  
  
Lvellier answered, without missing a beat. “Soon – they are on their way as we speak.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“And this is the observatory,” Wong said, as he brought Alma into another room. It was a large one, with the walls consisting of mostly glass windows – all tall, and crystal clear. Even the ceiling – which stretched high into a slight point – was built of what looked to be crystal. Up above several globes hung about as well – some with rings, and others with replicas of glistening stars. A complete imitation of the celestial skies.  
  
Wong continued to speak, as he turned back to where Alma was. “It’s where we keep record of the stars – ah, sir, perhaps you shouldn’t go up there!”  
  
Alma glanced back at Wong. While Wong hadn’t been looking Alma had already gone up to one of the windows – one that had a ladder attached to the side of it. There was a small balcony area up higher, and Alma had almost reached it when Wong realized what he was doing.  
  
“I’m just heading up here! I mean, other people do it, right?” Alma asked, as he smiled innocently. “I promise I’ll be careful!”  
  
Wong rubbed the back of his head. He wasn’t quite certain as to how he could force Alma to come down, and admittedly, he felt guilty even by the thought; Alma looked delighted enough as it was, and technically it _was_ safe…  
  
Wong nodded. “That view is a nice one,” he admitted. “Sometimes we have scholars use that telescope up there to look at the stars – but you might have some difficulty with it being daylight out.”  
  
Alma looked around. He had just climbed up onto the narrow balcony area, and spied the telescope. It was a strange invention, long and narrow with it being made of bronze and glass. Alma walked over before starting to play with it. “You mean this?” he asked, before he peered through it, just as he angled it downward so it was facing more near where the gatehouse was outside. “Wow, everything looks so close! I can even see the spot where my mother and I arrived.”  
  


As Alma continued to look, he tried to focus in on more around the gatehouse. He could still see the guards, but also many more of the CROWs. There were several groups of them, with the telescope allowing for Alma to see even the faintest details of their masks. Alma allowed himself to stare, as he moved his attention from one CROW to another-  
  
He stopped.  
  
Alma hadn’t realized it at first. He had only thought the CROWs were simply in a group for one reason or another. However, when Alma re-angled the telescope he saw something else – a young man at the front of the group. He looked close to Alma’s age, if not a year or so younger, with ghostly white skin and colorless hair. A strange, red-like marking could be seen on the left portion of his face, though his bangs made it hard to decipher the details. However, the young man’s left arm also stood out – which was a reddish, black color and marred by what looked to be some sort of scarring.  
  
Alma stared. His brow furrowed a bit, as he wondered who the young man was.   
  
The young man wasn’t alone though, as two other men were seen walking behind him.   
  
They looked similar, almost as though they could have been related. Both had dark, umber-colored skin and inky black hair – though one man had his long hair hair styled more formally, with it slicked back at the top while he were a monocle over one eye. As for the other man, he was younger, with his hair wavy and loosely tied back in a low ponytail.  
  
Alma remained still, as his attention remained on the strangers.  
  
Noticing how quiet Alma had fallen, Wong spoke. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Still looking through the telescope, Alma spoke. “There…there are a bunch of CROWs. And there are three other people with them?” Alma began to say, sounding a bit uncertain. “One of them has white hair, and a red marking on his face...and the other two have black hair and darker skin…”  
  
Wong stilled. Even with the minimal description, Wong knew the first person immediately – which then led him to guess who the second two were.  
  
“Perhaps you should come down,” Wong said, though the words seemed more imploring than suggestive. “We’ve seen a lot – it might be good for you to get some rest.”  
  
Alma pulled his face away from the telescope and looked down at where Wong was. He felt a bit of disappointment in his chest at the tour nearing an end. They had seen a few places, but there was still so much more than Alma _hadn’t_ seen – he had been hoping that the tour would have lasted a bit longer.  
  
However, Alma nodded his head. Wong had already been kind enough to show him around, and Alma didn’t want to seem ungrateful.  
  
Wong waited as Alma climbed back down. As soon as Alma’s feet was on the ground, Wong motioned for him to come along.  
  
Alma did so, but glanced back at the window a final time. Although he couldn’t see them, the memory of the strangers remained clear in his mind.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hermit: Contemplation | Search for Truth | Inner Guidance | Loneliness | Isolation | Lost Your Way
> 
> It’s picking up! >.> 
> 
> The Acropolis is such a pretty place – it’s no wonder Alma is excited. I’d be excited too with all of that glorious architecture. But I really do feel for Alma in a way; he’s so, so very naïve, and truly a sweet summer child that’s been closed off and sheltered for his whole life. It can only be expected he’d be ready to bounce off the walls and run around exploring, because when would he get another chance to do that? (God, and it hurts to think of how excited he is now, when…well, you guys will see. >.>)
> 
> Unfortunately, Twi’s now gotten that shock about the Noah coming though, and eek, it’s not going to really help considering how anxious she’s been about bringing Alma to the Acropolis for the first time. Something is bound to happen, especially with Tyki now entering the picture.
> 
> Plus…mmm, that third person? I’m pretty sure everyone knows by the description who it is. ;333 Surprise!
> 
> Since this is the final posting for Rare Pair Week 2019, I’ll be shifting to weekly updates from here on out. So the next chapter will be posted sometime next weekend (hopefully by Friday!). I know things have finally built up, and we’re getting to where something is about to happen. ;DDD
> 
> Thank you as always for reading! <3


	6. Discordance of Voices

The Acropolis was not as impressive as what one might have thought.  
  
Glinting silver and glistening marble – it was a pretty façade, but one that was superficial. A shimmering exterior for something that was otherwise cold and sterile. The regulations, the guards – it was all so stifling, and so confined. Gilded. Completely, and utterly _gilded_…  
  
Even its beauty could not conceal that.  
  
Tyki’s eyes moved, as he scanned the area as they were escorted into the citadel’s interior. It was a bit of a challenge, given the group of CROWs that was surrounding him. They flocked about relentlessly, never once allowing Tyki any chance to escape. Even with their masks, Tyki could feel their eyes on him, peering closely and watching for _any_ sign of a threat.  
  
Well, Tyki could have some fun with that.  
  
Slowly, Tyki lifted a finger. He held it for a moment, while watching for the CROWs’ reactions.  
  
One CROW faltered, and then another. Even cloaked, the tension radiated off of them.  
  
Grinning in amusement, Tyki lowered his hand.   
  
The CROWs’ agitation was palpable – so much, that Tyki could have laughed. Despite how emotionless they were supposed to be, the CROWs were oddly easy to rile. It didn’t take much, and Tyki relished in how fragile their feathers could be.  
  
Sheril looked over. He had been walking beside Tyki, their paces even despite the differences in how they carried themselves. While Sheril was notably more precise in his movements and held dignified air about him, Tyki was a bit more languid. He still shared some of the formality that Sheril was demonstrating, though it was miniscule in comparison.  
  
An annoyed glimmer appeared in Sheril’s eyes, as his attention remained on Tyki. “You could have at the very least done something more with your hair.”  
  
Tyki looked over at Sheril, and smiled with ease. “You mean combing it wasn’t good enough?” he joked, the words something of a playful jest. “I thought I’d get points for that. I even got a new tie for it.”  
  
Sheril exhaled through his nose, evidently not finding the quip as humorous as Tyki had. He returned his attention forward, and continued on.  
  
Tyki did the same. As he looked ahead, his attention promptly landed on one individual who stood out from the remainder of the CROWs: a young man with white hair, and pallid skin. He wore what appeared to be something of a cream-colored chiton, though the hem of the skirt ended above his knees. A dark brown belt was wrapped around his torso, and from behind Tyki could see several sacks of coins hanging from the young man’s waist.  
  
His left arm, Tyki could see, was marred in black and red scar tissue.  
  
Eventually, the young man at the front came to a stop – just before several other guards who had been patrolling the halls of the Acropolis. The guards immediately tensed upon seeing the amount of CROWs, but even more so when their attention landed on Tyki and Sheril.  
  
“These are the Noah that the Order requested I escort here,” the young man spoke at the front. “The CROWs are taking them to the east wing to remain until the Order wishes to see them.”  
  
The guards nodded, though their expressions were frosty – even toward that of the young man. They all stared at him coolly, with some even harboring a hint of disgust in their eyes, before stepping bad to allow for the CROWs to continue.  
  
Tyki hadn’t missed the exchange, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He was no stranger to one who was _marked_.  
  
Tyki was no stranger to who Allen Walker was, either.  
  
It was not long after that before Tyki and Sheril were brought to their destination. They were escorted into a chamber, which looked as though to be some sort of sitting room. For the most part, it was standard in design and adhered to the silvery color scheme of the whole citadel. However, there was one distinction that stood out to Tyki glaringly.  
  
The walls.  
  
It was not noticeable at first – at least, it might not have been noticeable to anyone who wasn’t familiar with them. But all along the center of the walls were markings: symbols and swirls that linked together in some old, written language. A language almost as old as the Noah’s themselves.  
  
A spell. It was a confinement spell.  
  
In the pit of his chest, Tyki felt something coil. It was cold, and slimy – a viciously disgusted sensation that teetered along offense. The feeling was so potent that for a moment, Tyki could have sworn his vision turned black, just as he felt his more primal instincts threaten to stretch out into a sneer.  
  
A blink of a moment passed, and Tyki was able to laugh it off.  
  
“You have to appreciate their thoroughness,” Tyki said, as he glanced over at Sheril. He then lifted his wrist, of which was covered by a silver band – one that had the same markings that covered the wall. “You’d have thought these would be enough.”  
  
Oddly enough, Sheril also appeared amused – though for a fleeting second, something dark flashed across his expression. Perhaps it had even been something darker than what Tyki had felt, but it had only been present for a mere fraction of a second.  
  
The young man – _Allen_ – remained by the door, as he turned to face the two Noah. His eyes were a pale, silvery-gray and an oddly neutral expression remained on his face. “CROWs will be stationed outside – they will escort you to the Order when you are needed.”  
  
“Of course,” Sheril said, words velvety smooth. Dark. _Bitter_. "We’ll be waiting.”  
  
Tyki was not so formal, as he looked over at the young man. “You’re not going to keep us company?” he asked, molten irises burning with interest. “And here I thought you would, given how the guards treated you out there.”  
  
Eyes flashing, Allen’s expression hardened to stone. He looked at Tyki frostily, features composed despite the sharpness of his glare. “As I said,” Allen repeated calmly, “The CROWs will escort you when needed.”  
  
Tyki smirked. Even if Allen had not verbally acknowledged Tyki’s observation, his body language had been enough of an indicator.  
  
Allen left after that, with Tyki catching sight of the CROWs out the door before shutting it.  
  
Once they were alone, Tyki walked over to a sofa before sitting down. He threw one of his arms over the back of it, before crossing his leg while looked at Sheril. “Well, so far I think it’s going well – they haven’t tried to kill us yet.”  
  
Sitting down in the seat opposite of Tyki, Sheril hummed. “They haven’t, but I’m sure they will try something ridiculous,” he said, sounding almost bored. “They say they want to negotiate, but I can guarantee you they will only attempt to back us into a corner until we cave on…whatever it is they want.”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that what they normally do?” he asked, before smirking. “I never would imagined, what with how _just_ they are…”  
  
The sarcasm laced Tyki’s words like honey, thick and sickeningly heavy. Even Sheril’s lips quirked upward, with the disgust of the Order being mutual.   
  
“It’s shocking, really,” Sheril said, for a moment playing along with the sarcasm. However, he sobered up more quickly than Tyki, as his expression turned solemn. “With that being said, it would be in our best interests to…anticipate what we will tell them.”  
  
Hearing this, the playful twinge from Tyki’s eyes also died. His features turned hard, though a small smile remained on his face – perfectly plastered, and with an edge of spite. “You already have an idea of what to say, I imagine?”  
  
Sheril looked at Tyki, and smiled. “Yes,” he said, mouth stretching into a grin. “Yes, I do.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma looked out the window. He was in his assigned room, having been escorted back by Wong after the trip to the observatory. Wong hadn’t stayed though, and had left Alma alone before swiftly going to “attend another matter.” Alma had no idea what it had been – he hadn’t had even gotten a chance to ask before he was suddenly placed back in a room, with instructions to “rest up” for the time being.  
  
Heavily, Alma sighed. Traveling through the portal had _hardly_ taken any energy out of him, so why did he need to rest? If anything, it had almost felt like an excuse to get Alma to remain in his room until one of his family members came to get him.  
  
_‘Who knows when that’ll be…’_ Alma thought. Although Alma had been excited to visit the Acropolis and see the rest of his family, he knew that they still had their obligations. Alma, however, was not really _involved _in politics at all; his parents rarely discussed such things in front of him, often keeping anything political between themselves. Alma knew that it was time-consuming though. His mother had needed to visit the Acropolis before, and Bak always seemed to be quite tangled up in things.  
  
Needless to say, Alma wasn’t sure what that meant for him. Was he really to be left in a room the whole time, while the rest of his family dealt with some sort of political affair?  
  
_‘I wonder why they always keep me out of it?’_ Alma asked himself, though he hadn’t the slightest clue why. He had always supposed that a part of it was because he had never left home, and had other obligations there. But now, with being at the Acropolis…it seemed a bit peculiar.  
  
Alma shook his head, as he sat up a bit straighter. He had been sitting beside the window, staring out onto the landscape. He could see the skyline of the other buildings of the Acropolis, as well as the rim of the gate that cut off the citadel from it. A bit closer, and below where Alma’s window was, he could see what looked to be a courtyard. It was a wide, open space, and along the edges Alma could see what appeared to be shrubs of varying flowers.  
  
Longing tickled Alma’s core, and he felt a rush of restlessness overtake him. He glanced back toward the door. Alma wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Wong had escorted him back, but already it had been a while, and no one had come to look for Alma. And for all Alma knew, no one might come for sometime longer.  
  
Alma turned, and took one final look out the window. Then, as a wave of determination filled him, Alma got up and walked over to the door.  
  
Pulling it open, Alma peeked into the hallway. He could see two guards nearby, though they appeared to be distracted in conversation. Quickly, Alma slipped out before they noticed, and hurried down the hall in the opposite direction of them.  
  
Once he turned the corner, Alma breathed a sigh of relief. _‘That wasn’t too hard,’_ he thought, before glancing around. Admittedly, he was a_ little_ nervous about navigating the hallways. Alma wasn’t actually familiar with the citadel’s interior, but he also didn’t want to waste his first time visiting it just _sitting_ in a room.   
  
If anything, a little exploring would be harmless.  
  
Glancing around, Alma started down another hall. It was quieter than the others, with no guards around. Somehow, this caused the citadel to even appear larger to Alma; the ceiling towered high above him, with his footsteps echoing despite their softness.   
  
Pausing, Alma stared upward. He was once again awestruck by the sheer impressiveness of the citadel’s architecture. It was nothing like anything Alma had ever seen before, and Alma couldn’t imagine how anyone could ever be used to such a sight. For Alma, it was a complete marvel – one that he almost couldn’t believe to be real.  
  
Alma stared up, before finally forcing himself to continue along. It was difficult to look forward though, as Alma’s eyes continued to trace upward, as he rounded another corner. The ceiling of the hall glistened like a star-encrusted sky, providing more than enough illumination for one to see. _It’s so incredible-‘_  
  
Alma’s thoughts cut off, as he collided with someone. The impact wasn’t too severe, though Alma staggered a bit as he attempted to keep his balance. “Ah, sorry!“ Alma began to apologize, as he re-balanced himself. Once he knew he wasn’t going to trip, Alma looked up, to see who it was that he had run into.  
  
Alma stilled.  
  
He recognized the young man – the first young man that Alma had seen through the telescope. As Alma looked, he could see the details of stranger more clearly, including the marking on his face. It was strange, with a streak of a reddish scar that traced down the left portion of his face and through his eye. Above his eye brown, was an inverted pentacle.  
  
Then, there was his arm.  
  
The arm was what had caught Alma off guard the most. When he had looked from the observatory, he had not been certain as to whether it had been some article or clothing or something else. But upon looking closer, Alma could see the marred flesh; it was charred looking, and leathery – even the nails on the young man’s hand were a strange, charcoal black.  
  
After a few seconds, Alma realized he was staring.  
  
The young man smiled politely, not giving any indication of whether or not he had been offended by Alma’s behavior. “That’s alright – sometimes I don’t always pay attention to where I’m going,” he replied good-naturedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before? My name’s Allen.”  
  
Alma smiled, body relaxing more at Allen’s amiability. “I’m Alma!” Alma answered. “I’m just visiting though. My brother, Bak, lives here, along with my grandfather.”  
  
Allen blinked, looking somewhat surprised. “Bak Chang?” he asked. “I didn’t realize Bak had a brother.”  
  
Alma laughed. “Ah, I’ve never come here before, so that’s not too surprising,” he said. “My mother had to come to deal with something though, so now she and the rest of my family are dealing with that…I was sort of looking around since I’m not exactly involved in any of it.”  
  
“That may not be a bad thing. Politics can be a bit of a mess,” Allen said. A thought struck him, as he looked at Alma curiously. “If you’re trying to get anywhere, I could show you around – I don’t have to be anywhere, and this place can get overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”  
  
Alma’s eyes lit up. “That’d be great!” he gushed. “Wong was showing me a little earlier, but we only really got to see the observatory before he had to leave.”  
  
Allen nodded in understanding. "Well, we can walk around some more places. Was there anywhere specific that you were trying to get to?”  
  
Alma thought. He recalled looking outside into what had looked to be some sort of courtyard, and again, he felt a tug toward that space in particular.  
  
“Outside – there’s a courtyard? I wanted to try to go there,” Alma answered.  
  
Allen nodded. “I can show how to get to there – it’s a really nice area,” Allen said. He then turned, and called down the hallway. “Hey, Tim!”  
  
Alma looked toward where Allen had called. He heard a small hum of something fluttering, and then when looked to be a swift flash of gold. It didn’t take long for Alma to recognize the orb-like creature though, as his eyes remained fixated on it.   
  
“You have a golem?” Alma asked, as he saw the orb land on Allen’s shoulder.  
  
Allen nodded. “Yeah – this is Timcanpy,” he said, as he nodded his head toward the golem.   
  
Alma looked, completely transfixed. “Wow, I’ve never seen a golden one – Bak has one that he uses, but it’s silver.”  
  
“Most of the golems at the Acropolis look like your brother’s,” Allen said. He then glanced down the hall, before looking back at Alma. “Here – we can go down this way. I know a few back halls that can get us outside more quickly.”  
  
Intrigue filled Alma’s eyes, as excitement bubbled in his chest. “Okay!” He said, as he started to walk alongside Allen.  
  
As they started down the hallway, Alma’s attention wandered over to where Allen was. While Alma was walking on the right side of Allen, he could still catch a glimpse of Allen’s left arm. Alma had to fight the urge to stare; it was more out of curiosity than anything else, but Alma didn’t know if it were something that he should ask Allen about.   
  
_‘I’ve never seen anything like that…I wonder what happened?’_ Alma thought, as he forced his gaze forward. _‘Don’t stare…’_  
  
Fortunately, Alma’s attention was soon diverted. Up ahead, there was a small group CROWs, who appeared to be patrolling the hallway. Alma didn’t think anything of it; he had already seen quite a few of them since arriving in the Acropolis, and assumed it was normal.  
  
But, when Alma glanced over at Allen, he noticed a slight shift in the other young man. Allen’s expression seemed to have cooled several degrees before his face went blank all together. It was strange to witness considering how friendly Allen had been only a few moments ago, and Alma glanced back at the CROWs.  
  
The CROWs didn’t acknowledge Alma or Allen as they walked by. They were eerily silent, with their beak-like masks concealing any shred of emotion they might have harbored. A bit uneasily, Alma made himself look forward; despite the cloaks and masks, he could somehow feel their eyes upon him.  
  
Alma and Allen eventually passed the CROWs, though it wasn’t until they were a fair distance away that Alma felt as though he could release a breath. Truthfully, Alma hadn’t even realized that they made him that uneasy; he certainly didn’t understand why. The CROWs were just a special type of guard, weren’t they? If anything, Alma should have been soothed to know that they were watching things.  
  
Allen sighed, and he looked over at Alma. “Sorry – they’re a bit intense,” he said, referring to the CROWs. “You came to visit at a bit of a strange time. There are so many CROWs stationed here right now.”  
  
Alma turned to Allen, and looked at him questioningly. “You mean there aren’t usually this many here?”  
  
Allen shook his head, as he and Alma stared down a stairwell. “No. Normally there are some, but extra precautions needed to be taken today,” Allen explained. “With the Noah being here, the Order didn’t want to take any chances.”  
  
Eyes widening, Alma balked. “The Noah are here!?” he exclaimed, completely taken by surprise.   
  
Allen also looked surprised, more so from Alma’s strong reaction. He blinked, as they reached the end of the staircase, both pausing. “Yeah…you didn’t know?” Allen asked, as his expression turned contemplative. “I guess I should have known – Lvellier gave the command to have some of them summoned here considering everything that’s been going on. But the decision was made not too long ago, and the Noah only arrived here a little earlier today.”  
  
Alma stared. He…well, he was _shocked_ more than anything. While he knew that the Noah were real, Alma had only ever known of their existence from a distance. With Alma having never actually seen an akuma in real life, those entities were already isolated from his existence – and the Noah even more so. Because they were the ones who _controlled_ the akuma. They were the ones who were so dangerous that they had needed to be confined to the Underworld, imprisoned and trapped without any means of escaping.   
  
They had always been a threat, but a far off one: a fantasy, even. Alma had just never thought that…well, that he’d be in the same_ place_ as a Noah.  
  
A shiver tickled the back of Alma’s spine, but he fought it. One thing that was even more powerful than his own unease was the intrigue he felt, and the questions that brimmed in his mind. Alma had only ever known what his parents had taught him, and now that he was speaking to Allen, Alma couldn’t hold back. “I…what are they like…?” Alma asked, voice tentative.  
  
Allen looked off to the side. Once again, a peculiar wash of coolness befell him. “The Noah are their own kind – they don’t like to adhere to the regulations the Order keeps in place. I can’t say I’m fond of them. But they’re bound, and are powerless here,” Allen explained. He glanced at Alma, before looking away uncertainly. “I was the one who escorted them here. If anything, they were at least compliant, but I don’t know what that means for whatever meeting is about to take place…”  
  
As Allen explained this all, Alma recalled the other two men he had seen Allen with from the observatory. At the time, Alma hadn’t understood why so many CROWs had been with them, or what had been going on. But now that Allen had revealed it was the Noah he had brought to the Acropolis…  
  
_‘That must have been why Wong wanted to leave so suddenly,’_ Alma realized. He actually felt a bit guilty as he realized this; Wong had probably wanted Alma to stay put until he had a better idea of what was going on, and here Alma was sneaking around.  
  
Noticing how quiet Alma had gone, Allen looked over at him with a smile. “Don’t worry – once the Order meets with them, they’ll probably have to return to the Underworld pretty quickly. And with all the CROWs around, it’s unlikely they could try anything.”  
  
Alma nodded. He looked back at Allen, and managed a small smile.  
  
“Come on,” Allen said, as he changed the subject. “You still wanted to go outside for a bit, right?”  
  
Again, Alma nodded. “Yeah!” he said, as he tried to push the thought of the Noah’s from his mind.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Time was ticking slowly.  
  
It was something that stood out to Tyki: the way the seconds dragged by, endlessly and without mercy. Time seemed to have slowed not longer after he and Sheril had been brought into that room to wait, like tiny grains of sand cascading from an hourglass – one by one, second by second.  
  
Truthfully, it was a little bit maddening.  
  
Tyki leaned against the window. He had needed to get up to _move_, before he somehow rotted in his seat. Sheril, of course, was somehow still seated. He was perfectly still, acting as if he had all of technically _did_ have time, though the patience portion was questionable.  
  
Usually, Tyki was more patient. But right now, he only felt restless.  
  
Releasing a breath, Tyki leaned against one of the windows. It faced outward, and with how it was angled, Tyki could see some of the courtyard as well. “So, you’ve done this before,” Tyki began to say, without looking at Sheril. “How long do they usually leave you in here?”  
  
Sheril shrugged, as he leaned back into the chair. “However long they feel like,” he drawled. “If you couldn’t tell, their hosting etiquette is hardly up to par. Honestly, they treat us like animals.”  
  
Tyki chuckled, as he slipped out a thin, rolled piece of paper. Bits of tobacco could be seen in it, before Tyki brought it up to his lips.  
  
Sheril noticed, and his lips curled in disapproval. “Do you have to do that here?”  
  
Tyki shrugged, not really caring about his brother’s approval. He snapped his fingers, causing the end of the cigarette to light. Tyki took a quick drag, holding the smoke for only a few seconds before exhaling. “It’s not like they’ll let me outside for a smoke break,” Tyki commented, as he kept his gaze outside of the window.  
  
Sheril didn’t say anything. He couldn’t exactly disagree with Tyki, though the disapproval remained.  
  
Tyki took another drag, as he continued to look outside. There were not as many people out, save for a few guards. Tyki realized that the majority of the CROWs were in the citadel by this point (many of which were probably stationed just outside the door). Because of this, gazing out the window wasn’t _terribly _interesting; the guards were bland, and Tyki didn’t exactly care for the scenery.   
  
However, it _was _better than staring at a wall.  
  
Tyki tapped his foot, as the cigarette dangled from his mouth. If anything, the nicotine helped to ease the restlessness he was feeling; it didn’t have a strong effect like it would on a human, but Tyki noticed it enough to care.   
  
His eyes wandered, a bit, skimming over the courtyard. Off to the edge, there was even a small garden area Tyki could see – one with two individuals in it.  
  
Tyki paused. He recognized one immediately: the _marked_ deity, Allen Walker. The charred arm and white hair was a giveaway, though Tyki had no idea who the other person was. He was young, and looked close to Allen’s age, and was dressed in a longer, more traditional chiton. It was difficult for Tyki to see the details of his appearance, though.  
  
Noticing how long Tyki had been still for, Sheril spoke, arching an eyebrow. “Something interesting?”  
  
Tyki took another hit, before exhaling the smoke. “Nah, nothing important,” he brushed off, as he looked over at Sheril with a grin.   
  
Sheril’s eyes were slightly dubious, but he didn’t get a chance to speak. There was a _click_, causing his attention to divert to the door – which had just been opened. In the doorway, two CROWs stood.   
  
“The Order is ready to speak with you,” one of the CROWs said.  
  
Sheril stood, and nodded. He glanced back at Tyki. “Seems the wait is over.”  
  
Tyki lowered his cigarette, as he put it out on the marbled windowsill. “Seems so…” he said, as he glanced out the window one last time.  
  
Tyki’s gaze reached Allen and the other young man for only a second, before he turned away.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Tim, what is it?” Allen asked.  
  
Timcanpy fluttered his wings. The golem had only seconds ago started to flitter about, speedily flapping his wings as his tail swished about. It had been a sudden change, considering how calm the golem had been only seconds before.  
  
Alma looked up. He had been kneeling down beside some orchids – some of which seemed to have not been doing quite as well as they could have been. Alma had taken a moment to attend to them, helping to revive some of their color when Timcanpy started acting up.  
  
“Is he okay?” Alma asked, as he glanced over to where Allen was.  
  
Allen frowned. He walked over to where Timcanpy was, the golem slowing just as Allen stood in front of him. Taking his finger, Allen tapped the cross-like marking on Timcanpy’s body, before it illuminated slightly. From there, an image projected – one that depicted a room, with what looked to be a council meeting taking place.  
  
Realization filled Allen. “The Order is going to start their meeting with the Noah,” Allen said, as the projection disappeared. He turned, and looked back at Alma apologetically. “I’m not required to be in the meeting itself, but I should probably go wait outside of the meeting hall. The Order will want the Noah escorted back fairly quickly – I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”  
  
“That’s okay,” Alma said, as he offered Allen a reassuring smile. He glanced back at the orchids. “These are better now, so maybe I could walk back with you? I might get lost trying to go back on my own.”  
  
Allen smiled. “Sure.”  
  
Alma stood, and they began walking back to the citadel after that. They had originally exited from a smaller side entrance that Allen had been familiar with, and went back the same way, through a narrow door and up a spiraling staircase.   
  
“So, your specialty is plant life?” Allen asked, though it was something more of a statement. “I shouldn’t be surprised considering who your mother is, but Bak doesn’t seem to have that ability.”  
  
Alma shook his head. “No, he has more sorcery skills. I didn’t really get any of those,” Alma explained.   
  
“It’s a shame he didn’t get any of that magic touch you have – those orchids did look a lot better after you handled them,” Allen complimented.  
  
Alma laughed. “They weren’t terrible – but they looked a little dull. I think it’s a lack of water,” he said, before looking at Allen curiously. “What about you though? You’ve…said several times you’re the one who escort the Noah between here and the Underworld?”  
  
“Oh,” Allen said, as he smiled a bit sheepishly. “Yeah…I guess you could say I’m a traveler. Crossing between realms is my specialty.”  
  
“Wow, really?” Alma asked, as they entered into a corridor. “That’s incredible – you must get to see so many interesting things!”  
  
“It has its perks,” Allen said, with a small shrug.  
  
Alma thought. “So…you’ve really seen the Underworld then?” he asked, as he tried to envision what such a place must have been like. “I can’t even begin to imagine how it is down there…”  
  
Allen didn’t say anything at first. His eyes shifted off to the side, gaze distant. “It’s not exactly a great place,” Allen said, voice low. “It’s…really dark. I’m not even sure how to describe it – there’s no sunlight. I feel cold every time I have to go there.”  
  
As Allen spoke, a chill tickled at Alma’s spine. His parents had never gone into detail about the Underworld; they had only ever expressed that it was an unpleasant place, and that Alma didn’t need to worry about it. Because of this, much of the Underworld’s appearance had been left to Alma’s imagination. He had imagined it must have been frightening, but somehow, hearing Allen’s account of it only made it all the more terrifying.  
  
_‘No sunlight…’_ Alma thought, as he repressed a shiver. He couldn’t imagine living in a world without the sun.  
  
“That sounds really horrible…” Alma said, as he tried to fathom such a place.  
  
“Ah, well hopefully you shouldn’t have any reason to go there,” Allen said, as he offered Alma a small smile, as he tried to lighten the conversation. “I know I try to keep my time there short. I can’t even eat anything down there.”  
  
Perplexed, Alma spoke. “Why?”  
  
Allen stopped, looking a bit surprised. However, he quickly gathered himself, and answered. “Well….you can’t eat food from the Underworld without becoming linked to it. Which means you can’t ever leave,” Allen explained. “It’s a way to keep people trapped there.”  
  
Another chill passed through Alma, and he rubbed his arm. “That’s….good to know I guess,” Alma said, his stomach knotting up at the thought.  
  
Seeing how uncomfortable Alma was getting, Allen glanced forward. He could see several CROWs up ahead, and realized the area they were in.   
  
“We’re about to get where the meeting hall is,” Allen said, before glancing over at Alma. “I’m just going to wait outside – do you know where to go from here?”  
  
Alma paused. He had a vague idea of where to go, with the main hall they were in looked familiar. However, Alma thought of going to an empty room by himself, with the conversation of the Underworld lingering in his mind, and Alma found himself hesitant to be anywhere alone.  
  
Somewhat tentatively, Alma spoke. “Um…actually, would it be okay if I waited out here with you?” Alma asked. “I know that probably seems weird…”  
  
Allen shook his head. “No, not at all,” he said with a smile. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma felt a little more relief – and he silently tried to push the thoughts of the Underworld from his mind.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Twi couldn’t focus.  
  
She tried – for what it was worth, she truly _tried_. But, the knowledge of the Noah having been summoned (and having already _arrived_) had left Twi somewhat shell-shocked. She hadn’t been prepared for such a revelation, especially without having being told beforehand. The Noah were not merely like the other deities – they were _dangerous_. And to summon them so swiftly was reckless.  
  
Quietly, Twi took a breath. She had tried to keep herself steady, with anger having followed the shock quickly. Anger had followed it, and fear.   
  
Of all things – why had the Noah had to be summoned on _this _occasion?  
  
Again, Twi attempted to focus. The meeting hall was set up so that there was a large, circular table for people to sit at. Already, the seats were near full; only a few people remained standing, with whispered exchanges and fleeting gazes.   
  
Twi herself had taken a seat, not harboring any desire to speak to anyone in that moment. She already knew she would need all of her energy for the meeting ahead.  
  
Someone approached Twi, sitting down beside her. Twi didn’t turn, but in her peripheral vision she recognized her father.  
  
Twi said nothing.  
  
Zuu sighed. “Twi, we _needed_ to summon the Noah to speak about what has been happening,” Zuu reiterated, already knowing well why his daughter was angry with him. “I understand you’re upset, but this was necessary.”  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed as she turned to Zuu sharply. “You can’t_ possibly_ think they will cooperate,” Twi spoke, words even but brimming with frustration. “And to authorize for them to come through the barrier-“  
  
“I know – it was a swift decision, and I should have realized you would come before I could notify you properly,” Zuu said. His expression softened a bit, as he looked at Twi. “I’m sorry this happened when you brought Alma here…but, I can assure you, he is safe. Bak spoke to Wong, and Wong escorted Alma to his room. He’s there now.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything, though her whole body felt rigid. Alma. She already worried tirelessly about him, and this incident had done nothing but magnify those concerns.  
  
Zuu watched Twi’s expression carefully. Despite the cool exterior, Zuu knew his daughter well enough to sense her anxiety. He knew well enough the reasons for those anxieties as well.  
  
Heavily, Zuu sighed. “Twi…” he began to say, voice low.  
  
Bak walked over at that moment, interrupting whatever it was that Zuu had been about to say. He took a seat on the opposite side of Zuu, and spoke. “They’re bringing them in.”  
  
The conversation between them all died in that moment, as the rest of the room quieted. Even the side conversations fell to a hush as several CROWs walked into the main hall – and with them, the two Noah representatives.   
  
The Noah stood out starkly among the sea of red, and even so when compared to the other council attendees. It was easy to distinguish them with their sharp, angular features along with the clothing they wore. While those who were affiliated with the Order were typically dressed in light-colored tunics and robes, the Noah were dress in dark, tailored attire; instead of loose cottons and linens, the Noah wore adorned in inky-colored leather and silks, with fitted slacks and detailed finery.  
  
Twi’s eyes never left them. Her gaze bore into the two Noah, with the both of them being recognizable: Sheril Kamelot and Tyki Mikk. However, Twi had only really ever interacted with Sheril before in this sort of environment. Tyki was another story – Twi knew the name, and had seen him once many years ago. But, Twi had never dealt with him since…  
  
Twi didn’t finish the thought, as she re-focused on the present moment.  
  
The Noah both took their seats – which happened to be across from where Twi and her family was. There was still an empty space on each side of the Noah, with two CROWs stationed not far behind them.   
  
While the security precaution should have been soothing, it did little to quell Twi’s unease. It did little to quell anything.  
  
Sheril’s eyes moved in that instance, just as they fell on Twi. Silently, his lips curled into a smile.  
  
Twi had to use every ounce of willpower to keep her composure right then and there.  
  
With the Noah having been seated and the remainder of any whispered conversations dying, those who had remained standing quickly took their seats. A collective understanding swept through the meeting hall, with not a sound being uttered. Even the air itself seemed to have stilled, as an uneasy tension lingered about in the room.  
  
Soon, Lvellier broke it. “Since we’re all here, we should begin,” he said, as he addressed everyone at the table. “By now, everyone is aware of why it is we’re meeting here. Including our…visitors.”  
  
As he paused, nearly everyone’s attention shifted over to the Noah. Sheril and Tyki hardly batted an eye.  
  
Lvellier continued, though this time, he addressed the Noah specifically. “As you’ll recall in the message you received, this meeting is concerning an issue that may or may not be occurring with the barrier,” Lvellier recounted, expression hard as he looked at Sheril in particular. “It seems your _akuma_ have somehow been trickling into the mortal realm – something that we simply cannot allow. We invited you here to give you a chance to explain what you know about this.”  
  
The words were calmly spoken, and even polite – yet they held a razor sharp edge, like a blade carefully placed beneath the surface of a stream. It took no fool to hear the accusation in Lvellier’s words, and understand that it wasn’t a _request_ that he was making: it was a demand.  
  
Sheril smiled, expression cordial and kissed by ice. “And how _gracious_ of you to give us such an opportunity,” Sheril spoke, gratitude constructed sweetly like honey and arsenic. “Unfortunately, I cannot say how the akuma have found their way to the mortal realm. Truth be told it was just as shocking for us to hear as it was for you.”  
  
There was an immediate wave of disapproval vocalized in that moment, with several attendees speaking out in disagreement. Among them was Renee Epstein, who was quick to speak what seemed to be brimming in everyone else’s mind.  
  
“You can’t _possibly _expect us to believe such a thing?” Renee questioned, as her eyes flashed coldly at Sheril. “As the Noah, you are the ones who control the akuma – to expect us to think they would somehow waltz out of the underworld without your knowledge is _hardly_ fathomable.”  
  
There was a chuckle, causing Renee’s attention to shift. She frowned, when she was it was Tyki who had laughed.   
  
Lvellier also appeared to be rather put off by the reaction. “I’m quite interested to hear what it is that you find so amusing,” Lvellier started to say. “Unless this meeting is merely a joke to you.”  
  
Tyki’s laughter died, and he looked at Lvellier, eyes glimmering. “Not at all,” he answered smoothly. “I only found it amusing how much you’re assuming despite your lack of knowledge on akuma.”  
  
Lvellier’s eyes narrowed.  
  
Tyki continued, as he crossed his legs. “Akuma are created by the souls of those who have suffered; they are born from humans who suffer so greatly that their essence begins to twist itself into grief, distorting itself in into its own misery,” Tyki explained calmly. He then held up his wrist, the silver band that bound his powers glinting vibrantly. “And what are we supposed to do? You_ are_ the ones who have kept us bound to the Underworld, and that makes it _very_ difficult to track things.”  
  
As Tyki explained this, Twi’s expression remained hard. She had barely moved since the meeting began, with her body having nearly turned to stone. But when Twi spoke, her voice was oddly even – calm and composed.  
  
“That’s only partially true,” Twi stated, causing Tyki’s attention to shift to her, intrigue brimming in his eyes. “Akuma are also created from dark matter – which the Noah supply. Dark matter cannot simply _appear_.”  
  
Tyki stared for a moment, before his lips slowly stretched into a smile. “Didn’t realize you were such an expert in dark matter.”  
  
The comment caused Twi to still, her whole body freezing momentarily.  
  
Swiftly, Zuu intervened. “It is merely fact – and as you can imagine, why it’s hard for us to believe you haven’t been aware of this,” Zuu spoke. “Akuma require dark matter to be made – so _someone_ is making them. Unless, they are in fact escaping the from the Underworld themselves.”  
  
“That is true – dark matter is a necessary component of akuma,” Sheril agreed, taking over the conversation once more. “However, dark matter is ancient – far more than the innocence that gave you all your own abilities. It cannot be contained with a mere barrier, and for all we know could be trickling out through a crack. But as my brother pointed out, we can’t monitor such a thing when we _ourselves_ are confined.”  
  
No one said anything, although the air remained tense. A few attendees even exchanged glances – quick and discreet, as not to draw attention to themselves.  
  
Quietly, Bak’s eyes moved over to Twi and Zuu – both of which who remained focused on the Noah.  
  
Seeing that he had everyone’s undivided attention, Sheril continued. “We would of course be more than willing to monitor such things…if we were no longer to be confined in such a way.”  
  
The hall went silent, and the room dropped several degrees in temperature.  
  
Lvellier stared, his gaze somehow intensifying even more. A dark looked seemed to pass over his features, before he spoke. “And what _exactly_ are you suggesting?” he pressed, though somehow, the answer already loomed at the table.  
  
Sheril looked back, smile still firmly in place. Without wavering, he answered. “Why, to lower the barrier of course.”  
  
The words had only left his lips for but a second, before an outcry of protest could be heard at the table. Like a crack in a sheet of ice, the composure the meeting attendees had been harboring fractured, spilling into a cacophony of resistance.  
  
“That’s completely out of the question!” Renee snapped, her voice rising enough so that the other speakers quieted swiftly. “The barrier was put in place for a reason-“  
  
“And what reason was that?” Sheril asked pointedly. “To limit us? Really, that’s all it’s been used for – which, makes our jobs very difficult to complete.”  
  
“Human life is not yours to govern – not until they cross over after death,” Zuu reminded Sheril. “The barrier was put in place because your kind was passing judgment prior to that, and intervening in human affairs that weren’t mean to be trifled with.”  
  
Sheril’s gaze returned to Zuu. He didn’t speak at first, with his eyes burning like two amber flames, acidic and scalding. He didn’t blink once, and Sheril’s body remained still – motionless, almost as though he were a predator anticipating how to take on his next prey.   
  
“Tell me,” Sheril said, words somehow eerily calm despite the chaotic reaction the attendees had displayed. “Who decided that? It certainly wasn’t any of us Noah, and if I recall, we existed _long_ before your kind did.”  
  
Lvellier stepped in at this point. “The Order decided it when we saw the horrific treatment you were executing on humans – that was why the innocence was given to us in the first place. To counter the actions _you_ were committing,” he stated harshly. “Needless to say, you can see why revoking any portion of the barrier is _not _possible.”  
  
Something flashed in Sheril’s eyes, like a shadow of a leaf being whisked by the wind. It disappeared within seconds, as Sheril’s mask of politeness remained. He didn’t flinch in annoyance or disgust, but merely sighed as though he were tired.   
  
“I see,” Sheril sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do to assist you – which is a shame. Here we came hoping to actually _negotiate_ for once. It does get exhausting dealing with all of this conflict, doesn’t it?”  
  
Lvellier didn’t say anything immediately. His dark eyes remained pensive, with the displeasure of Sheril’s argument evident on his features. “It does, but unfortunately, there is not much that can be done considering your track record,” Lvellier said, before his attention moved over to Twi, Zuu, and Bak. “Unless the Chang family feels this would have any necessity – seeing as you are the ones who created the initial barrier.”  
  
Everyone’s attention in the room shifted in that moment. All three of the Changs kept quiet, with their expressions a mask of frosty calmness.   
  
Twi was especially calm. Her whole body seemed to have locked down, carefully compressing itself into composure as her eyes met Lvellier’s, not once unyielding or threatening to break. She held his gaze for a moment, before she then looked at Sheril, with her ice-blue eyes meeting his acidic amber ones. Twi didn’t blink.  
  
“The barrier will remain in place,” Twi stated, words final. “We will take to adding extra measures to ensure there will be no more slips, or any means of escape.”  
  
As Twi spoke, her word carried a second meaning. It was one that might have been missed by some, but rang clear to the Noah. It rang loudly and heavily, like a brass bell to seal one’s fate: _You will not escape._  
  
The pleasantry of Sheril’s expression faded, and even Tyki’s languid composure grew tense. They were small, tiny shifts – shifts that took place over the span of milliseconds, quick to dissolve before one could gaze for too long.  
  
Once more, Sheril smiled. His gaze never left Twi’s. “Very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s downhill from here. The snowball has started. XD
> 
> From this point onward, some of the chapters start to get a bit longer - primarily because so much happens. This is a very /loaded/ story (I just finished chapter 23, and honest to god have no idea how I’ll keep this fic under 30 chapters. I’m pretty sure this fic is hitting 30. XD). There’s a lot with the world building and plot, and frankly, I cursed myself by taking this on. I’m still loving every bit of it, but damn, I’m cursed.
> 
> I was really excited to officially introduce Allen in this chapter. He’s a really interesting character, and was sort of inspired by Hermes in a way? I mean, Hermes is the god of thieves and travel? It fits Allen, I feel like. His character will also come back into play more later in the story.
> 
> The Noah also finally reappear! It was only a few of them in the prologue, and a small glimpse of Tyki and Road back in chapter 4. I really like switching to their perspective, since the Noah are just always really complex to write - Tyki especially. He’s a bit tricky for me in this AU at times, but ahhh, I do enjoy writing him a lot. (Especially when Alma is in the same scenes as him XD).
> 
> But yeah. This was a more political chapter in terms of build, but like I said: the snowball has started, and the real drama can get rolling! ;3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please feel free to leave and comments or feedback! I’d love to hear who else is sucked into this crazy rare pair, or brave enough to read this mess of a story. XD


	7. Unsettling Turns

“Do meetings usually take this long?” Alma asked.  
  
Allen paused, as he glanced toward the doors. Two guards were stationed, with one on the side of each door. Neither of the guards had moved once, and not a sound could be heard from inside – which, wasn’t surprising. Because of how tightly the meeting hall was sealed, it was practically soundproof, making the room an ideal meeting location for anything confidential.  
  
Allen sighed, and he turned back to Alma. “Sometimes,” he answered. “This one I wouldn’t be surprised if it took a while.”  
  
Alma looked at Allen curiously. “Why?”  
  
Hesitating, Allen looked a bit surprised by Alma’s question. “Oh, well….the akuma incidents. Several of them have occurred in the mortal realm with the Order finding akuma roaming near villages,” Allen answered, before looking at Alma with a bewildered gaze. “But…you really weren’t aware? I’d have thought you’d have known, considering it’s the reason your mother needed to come.”  
  
Alma stared. He was honestly shocked to hear this, especially given how serious an issue it was. But then, Alma recalled the message that Bak had sent, and how it had been sealed…had this been what the message had been about all along? Had it been about the unexplained appearances of akuma?  
  
Thoughts spinning, Alma thought back to his parents. If they had known, why hadn’t they told him…?  
  
Looking off to the side, Alma rubbed his arm. “I….no, I didn’t know,” Alma finally said, words somewhat quiet.  
  
Allen watched Alma’s reaction carefully. He hadn’t missed the tinge of discomfort in Alma’s eyes, and the awkwardness that had spilled into his body language. If anything, it was clear that Alma was bothered by the fact that he was just now learning this information.   
  
Gently, Allen spoke. “Ah, I’m sure they had a reason to – and this all did happen pretty quickly. Maybe they got turned around.”  
  
The reassurance was kind, and Alma felt a small twinge of appreciation for Allen’s efforts. Meekly, he smiled in Allen’s direction. “Yeah. That probably was what it was,” Alma agreed, supposing it was likely. Alma’s parents had so much they had to deal with – maybe it had been an oversight.  
  
Maybe.  
  
The sound of the doors opening caught Alma’s attention. He looked over along with Allen, as they both watched in anticipation.   
  
“Guess it just ended,” Allen said, as he could see different people beginning to spill out of the meeting hall.  
  
Alma watched. He could see various attendees coming out – none of whom he recognized, or had ever interacted with before. Everyone wore such severe expressions, all while dressed in formal robes and clothing. Some of the attendees began to group together, as they spoke in hushed voices. Alma strained to listen as he felt his curiosity pique, but couldn’t make out what they were saying in the slightest.  
  
It was only another few seconds before Alma saw someone familiar – his mother, followed by his brother and grandfather. Zuu ended up being slightly held back, as one of the other meeting attendees pulled him aside to say something, whereas Twi and Bak seemed completely distracted. Twi in particular looked rather pensive, with her eyes hard and distant – the way that she always looked when troubled by something.  
  
Somewhere, in the pit of his chest, Alma felt a stab of worry.  
  
There was the immediate impulse for Alma to go to his mother, and to ask what was wrong. The sensation overcame Alma swiftly, and he was close to doing so; however, before he could take his first step forward, he saw someone else exit the meeting hall-  
  
Alma stopped. He recognized the dark hair and richly tanned skin, with the Noah’s features standing out starkly.  
  
Although there were CROWs close by, the one Noah walked briskly, quickly catching up to where Twi and Bak were. Twi and Bak stopped as the Noah said something, but Alma was too far away to make out what it was.   
  
From what Alma could see, his mother was _not _pleased.  
  
Next to Alma, Allen spoke. “That’s Sheril,” he said, as eyed the Noah warily. “He’s usually the once to come as representation for the Noah Clan as a whole.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he silently made note of the name. It wasn’t familiar to him, but then again, Alma’s family _hardly _discussed anything involving the Noah unless it was to reiterate how dangerous they were. Names, distinctions – none of those details mattered, because they were dangerous all the same. Deceitful. Untrustworthy…  
  
Alma gripped his wrist, as he saw the second Noah exit. His posture was not as prim as Sheril’s, and there was an oddly laid back air to how he carried himself. He wore a somewhat bored expression as he exited the hall, with two CROWs not far from him; however, the Noah hardly seemed to notice.  
  
“What about him?” Alma asked, as his attention lingered on the second Noah.  
  
Allen looked. A small frown appeared on his face as his attention landed on the other Noah. “Tyki,” he said. “I actually wasn’t expecting him to come, but then again, he is Sheril’s brother…”  
  
Allen trailed off, though Alma wasn’t certain as to why at first. However, when he looked back at Tyki, he could see that the Noah’s attention had landed on them. His eyes were a shock of molten gold unlike anything that Alma had ever seen, and for a moment, Alma felt a bit paralyzed – almost as though he had accidentally made eye contact with a basilisk and could feel his body turning to stone.  
  
Unexpectedly, Tyki grinned.  
  
The shift in expression caught Alma off guard, so much that he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to react. However, even that couldn’t compare to how stunned he felt in the next moment – when Tyki started to walk over to where Alma and Allen were.  
  
Immediately, Alma felt himself tense. His attention shifted around, and he could see that there were several CROWs still lingering close by – no doubt to keep an eye on both Tyki and Sheril, to ensure that no foul play took place. Alma also glanced over to where Bak and Twi were, but they were still distracted, still conversing with Sheril as their expressions remained tense.  
  
Inside, Alma could feel his heart palpitate nervously.  
  
Tyki stopped just as he reached where Alma and Allen were. Before Tyki could say anything, Allen spoke. “What do you want, Tyki?” he asked, words short and direct.  
  
Tyki raised his hands in defense. “Only to come and say hi. I’m sure the wait out here was _invigorating_ – probably more exciting than what I just witnessed in there,” he said, words oddly casual and silk smooth. Lowering his hands, Tyki continued, “But hey, it got me out for a bit.”  
  
Allen’s expression remained completely neutral, as he spoke calmly. “Until I escort you back – which I imagine will be soon.”  
  
“An unfortunate reality,” Tyki said, before his gaze landed back on Alma. Smile broadening a bit, his eyes gleamed. “I don’t know you though – are you one of Walker’s little friends?”  
  
Alma stiffened, and his throat ran dry. He could practically feel his vocal cords lock up, with even his lungs refusing to budge. It was as though every single thing his family had ever told him about the Noah were beginning to crash into the forefront of his mind, and like an obedient child Alma had the instinctive urge to _leave_. Yet his feet felt cemented, and Alma couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t think, or…  
  
An amused glint appeared in Tyki’s eyes, with Alma’s silence rippling in the air. “Shy then?” Tyki asked, question light and teasing. “Or maybe nervous?”  
  
The word _nervous_ seemed to strike something with Alma, and he shook his head quickly. “I-I’m not nervous,” Alma said, though he wanted to scold himself for how weak the response sounded.  
  
Tyki chuckled. “Are you sure?” he asked, before bringing his hand to the side of his mouth, as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Because there are wildflowers sprouting at your feet.”  
  
Alma’s whole body went rigid, before he glanced down. Sure enough, a few sprouts had _somehow_ started to sprawl out from beneath where he was standing. While there weren’t too many of them, there were certainly enough to cause Alma to feel nothing short of embarrassment.  
  
Face heating up, Alma swiftly willed the sprouts away, thoroughly mortified at his own slipup.   
  
Allen’s attention shot back to Tyki, his polite mask discarded for something colder. “If you’re so bored, then perhaps you should find a new hobby rather than to harass others.”  
  
Tyki brought hand over his heart, in a mocking gesture. “Ouch. And here I was just trying to be friendly.”  
  
Alma glanced back at Tyki warily. The Noah spoke so casually and _informally_ – nothing like what Alma would have expected. But then again, what _had_ Alma been expecting….?  
  
“_Alma_.”  
  
Alma nearly jumped when he heard his name being spoken, let alone the tone it was being spoken in. He turned, looking just back behind where Tyki was; when he did, Alma could see that the speaker had been Bak, who was swiftly walking over to where Alma was.  
  
Without any delay, Bak approached Alma. He deliberately ignored Tyki, as he addressed Alma specifically. “What are you _doing _here?” Bak questioned, a scowl on his face. “Wong told me he took you to your room to wait there!”  
  
Alma flinched. It was bad enough that he had momentarily lost control of his own powers, but being scolded by his older brother on top of that was another level of humiliation that he didn’t need.   
  
Apologetically, Alma looked at Bak. “I just came to wait with Allen,” he said, before adding quickly, “I just wanted some company! And I wasn’t sure how long you’d all be meeting for…”  
  
Bak’s eyes flickered over to Allen. They rested on him briefly, though Bak didn’t say anything to the other deity.   
  
Finally, Bak spoke. “Let’s go – before you give Mother a heart attack,” he said to Alma, before he quickly ushered for Alma to come along.  
  
Alma hesitated, as he gave Allen a quick glance. He avoided looking at Tyki though, and quietly spoke to Allen. “Um…sorry,” he offered, somewhat awkwardly.  
  
Allen shook his head, as understanding filled his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said.  
  
Alma smiled. However, before he could stop himself, his eyes flickered over to Tyki.  
  
Their eyes met for a second, before Alma turned away, quickly following Bak from the area.  
  
Not far off, Twi watched, not once letting either of her sons out of her sight. Even with them departing, Twi could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest; she had nearly lost her composure when she happened to catch a glimpse of _Alma_ there, of all places. And the fact that he had been so close to a _Noah_…  
  
If Bak had not gone over first, Twi might have struck the Noah down right then and there.  
  
Twi steadied herself. Composed. She had to remain _composed_. Even if Alma had gone wandering about when he shouldn’t have, Twi would simply have to speak to him later; she couldn’t risk drawing any unwanted attention just outside the meeting hall, with so many of the attendees present.  
  
Besides – there was still _Sheril_ she had to deal with.  
  
Twi exhaled, and returned her attention back to Sheril. She gave him a cool look. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t see any reason to continue this conversation,” she said, wanting nothing more than to leave.  
  
Sheril’s eyes were unblinking, like a serpent’s unyielding gaze. However, his attention briefly flickered over to where Alma and Bak and disappeared to, before he spoke. “You brought your other son here?” Sheril inquired, as a hint of intrigue appeared in his eyes. “How interesting. He wasn’t at the meeting – is there a reason for that?”  
  
Twi’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe my family is of any concern to you,” she sharply countered.  
  
“My apologies,” Sheril offered smoothly. He then smiled, teeth white and gleaming. “I just thought it was a bit peculiar is all.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything. She glared though, expression glacial and unwavering. There was an intensity in her eyes that likely would have struck fear into anyone – though Sheril hardly seemed to be affected, and met her gaze with ease.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Twi could see Zuu nearby. He was staring over at where she and Sheril were, with a grave expression on his face.  
  
Twi made a move to leave, though Sheril spoke, once more causing her to pause. “Perhaps, you will rethink our request,” he suggested silkily. “To remove the barrier would only allow us to do as we were meant to.”  
  
Twi didn’t speak at first, but looked back at Sheril. Inside, she could feel her anger begin to rise; it had been infuriating enough when Sheril had tried to catch her with Bak after the meeting, to attempt to slip a few more persuasive whispers in her ear. However, the attempts were in vain; Twi knew what kind of man Sheril was. She knew he was not to be trusted.  
  
And she would not bend. Not on this.  
  
Still holding Sheril’s gaze, Twi spoke. “My family will not revoke the barrier,” she stated firmly. “And even if the Order was willing to, _I _would not allow it. So I suggest you spend your energy elsewhere.”  
  
Sheril didn’t say anything at first. His smile had faded, with his eyes equally intense. His body was unnaturally still, as he never once looked away from Twi, like a vicious creature eying a threat.  
  
Another small, slow smile curled about. “Of course,” he said. “So long as you at least _think _about it – it could be a nice way to….make amends, before anything escalates further.”  
  
Twi’s stilled. The words sank into her core like two icy blades, and she felt her blood chill. And somewhere, deep in the recess of her mind, she heard the memory of a child’s scream.  
  
Coldly, Twi turned and walked away.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“What were you _thinking_?” Bak asked, as he paced around the room. “Wong brought you here and told you to stay here for a _reason_.”  
  
Alma looked off to the side. He was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he had been temporarily given, with Bak having escorted him back promptly. After being caught outside of the meeting hall, Bak hadn’t delayed in hurrying Alma back, but it had not been until they were in the room with the door shut that Bak had started to question Alma further.  
  
“I didn’t realize it was because the _Noah _were here – no one even told me!” Alma explained. “Except for Allen…”  
  
Bak exhaled, as he ran a hand through his blonde locks. His face looked a bit flushed, and around the collar of his tunic there was a hint of red peeping out. “Of all people for you to run into…a _Noah_? And you were with Allen too….”  
  
Alma turned to Bak. “But the Noah didn’t do anything! I mean, they’re powerless here, right?” Alma asked, before he registered the second part of Bak’s comment. “And…what’s wrong with Allen? He’s a deity like us, and he’s nice! He actually showed me around so I wouldn’t get lost, and he was really friendly.”  
  
Bak closed his eyes. He rubbed the temple of his forehead, looking rather exasperated. “I….yes, he’s…nice, but that’s not the _point_,” Bak said, before opening his eyes. He looked back at Alma with a serious gaze. “Alma, he’s _marked_ – he’s not someone you should be interacting with.”  
  
Alma froze up a bit. There was something of a delayed reaction, almost as thought Alma were struggling to register what Bak had just said. But, the word _marked_ rang in Alma’s mind, and he swallowed.   
  
“He’s…marked?” Alma asked, as he averted his gaze.  
  
Bak’s expression fractured, and for a moment, he looked guilty. A small breath escaped him, as his tone softened with Alma. “Alma….didn’t you see his face and arm? At some point, Allen was infected by dark matter,” Bak explained. “It’s why he’s the one who travels to the Underworld to escort the Noah when summoned – and it’s why you _shouldn’t_ be interacting with him. You know how Mother feels about that sort of thing.”  
  
As Bak explained this, Alma felt his heart crumple in disappointment. His parents – his mother especially – had always warned Alma to be careful of those who were marked, or infected by dark matter. Often, they became unstable with time, and had to be monitored carefully. Even in the most controlled situations, they were dangerous and unpredictable.   
  
And, Alma wasn’t supposed to interact with them – which meant he wasn’t supposed to interact with Allen, either.  
  
Still looking away, Alma struggled to accept this. “But…Allen’s not a bad person…”  
  
“I know, but that’s just the way things are,” Bak tried to emphasize, despite the uneasy tension in the room.   
  
Bak caught a small glimpse of Alma’s downtrodden expression though, and with a pang of guilt pinching of nerves, Bak attempted to ease his younger brother. “Look…I know this is your first time here, but for now, you just…need to be careful, alright? I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, and even Mother and I didn’t realize that the Noah were going to be here today.”  
  
Alma looked up once more, eyes sparking with curiosity. “What…happened at the meeting?” Alma asked quietly. “Allen said that…it had to do with akuma.”  
  
Bak sighed, as he folded his arms. “It….yes, it had to do with that,” Bak finally admitted, before he met Alma’s gaze. “It’s involving the barrier – Mother and Grandfather are going to have to re-evaluate it, and I might need to work on it as well.”  
  
“Is something wrong with it?” Alma asked, though Bak didn’t respond immediately. “Bak, I feel like no one is _telling _me anything! Mother and Father didn’t even mention the akuma incidents to me!”  
  
Bak frowned, as he heard this. However, he didn’t immediately take sides, and his expression was pensive. “I’m sure they had a reason – they probably just didn’t want you to worry. You know how they are,” Bak explained.  
  
A small, pout-like scowl appeared on Alma’s as he looked away. He was still seated on the edge of the bed, arms and legs both crossed. Alma knew he probably seemed childish; Bak was right in that their parents were protective, though at times, it seemed like they were more protective of_ Alma_. It felt that in the moment at least, what with how Alma had been left out of the loop of what had been going on.  
  
Honestly, the whole ordeal felt…strange. Even with Bak’s rational, Alma couldn’t quite piece together what it was, but something felt _odd_…  
  
Or, Alma could have been overthinking it – he tended to do that when he got upset.  
  
Watching Alma’s reaction, Bak sighed. “Hey,” he began to say. “Things…should be calming down soon, and I imagine it won’t be long before the Noah are taken back to the Underworld. If you want, maybe we can look around more of the city. It’s a lot nicer than being in this citadel all of the time.”  
  
Alma looked back at Bak, eyes lighting up hopefully. “Really?”  
  
“Yes, just…_try_ not to wander off again? I’m going to see how things are going then, I’ll come back.”  
  
Alma nodded.   
  
Bak left after that, leaving Alma once again alone in the room. He glanced around; there was not exactly much for him to do, and for a moment Alma felt regret for not have asking Bak about if he could have at least had Bak’s golem come by for company. It would have at the very least been a little more pleasant than simply _waiting_.  
  
Standing up, Alma walked over to the window in the bedroom. He leaned over with his elbows resting on the windowsill. Outside, Alma could see part of the gate surrounding the citadel, with the skyline of the city just beyond it.  
  
Quietly, Alma did the only thing he could do, and watched.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Twi couldn’t get Sheril’s words out of her head.  
  
She was fixating on them – she _knew_ that she was. Inside her head, Twi kept replaying the conversation on a loop. She continuously attempted to trace back to each word, to each inflection of tone, but her memory was not perfect; Twi could not revisit the exact moment no matter how desperately she wanted to. No matter how desperately she needed to.  
  
Twi had no way of knowing what Sheril had meant – not completely.  
  
Zuu closed the door behind them. He and Twi had just entered into a study, somewhat sectioned off from everywhere else in the citadel. His mouth was tugged into a thin frown as he noticed the tension in his daughter’s body, with her energy spurting about like the sparks of an uncontrollable flame.  
  
“Twi,” Zuu spoke. “Twi, what did he _say_?”  
  
Twi went still. Without realizing it, she had started pacing, her hands balled tightly and her muscles terse. Even her lungs seemed to have stiffened, as Twi realized her breathing was shallow.  
  
Swiftly, Twi tried to regulate herself, willing her breathing to return to normal. “He wanted to persuade me to change my mind about lowering the barrier,” Twi finally answered. She then looked off to the side, as a disgusted look crossed her features. “Then he was curious to why Alma wasn’t in the meeting…”  
  
Zuu eyed Twi carefully. “It’s not unusual that Alma wouldn’t have been present – not when he’s never been involved before,” he said. “Unless…Sheril said something else to cause you concern.”  
  
It was a statement more than a question. Already there was something of a knowing edge to Zuu’s voice, as if he somehow was aware of the answer. This didn’t make it any easier for Twi to say the truth aloud though, and getting the words was similar to pushing knives up her esophagus – sharp, and unpleasant.  
  
Still averting her gaze, Twi took a breath. “Sheril again reiterated that I should reconsider my decision,” she said. “That removing the barrier could make amends before things…_escalate_ any further.”  
  
The words dripped from Twi’s tongue scathingly. Sheril’s comment had been vague, and precise all the same; it had been a warning, and it had been a _threat._   
  
Twi turned and looked back at Zuu. “The Noah will try something - I _know _they will,” Twi said, heat spilling into her voice. “They tried eleven years ago, and these akuma appearing can’t be coincidental – the Noah _must_ be orchestrating it somehow.”  
  
Zuu hummed. “I don’t disagree with you. We’ll need to try to track how and where these akuma are slipping out from,” Zuu stated. “Where is Alma now?”  
  
“Bak took him back to his room,” Twi said. She recalled seeing Alma there outside of the meeting hall, and an unpleasant, soured taste soiled her mouth. “He was with Allen Walker, and…that _other_ Noah.”  
  
“Both of who will be gone soon,” Zuu reminded Twi. Pausing, he lowered his voice, despite the fact that they were the only occupants in the room.   
  
“You and Edgar dealt with everything years ago – they wouldn’t have anyway of knowing. No one would,” Zuu continued. “We never notified the Order of what happened after that attack, and even _Bak_ doesn’t know. Unless you’ve told anyone, there’s no way that anyone would know anything, let alone the Noah.”  
  
Twi didn’t speak. Although the words reached her ears, she found little comfort in them. They only left her cold, and her chest feeling hollow, with an unpleasantly queasy sensation pulling at her insides.  
  
No one. Eleven years, and they had told no one what had happened. Eleven years, and they were still trying to keep it buried.  
  
It threatened to resurface: the horrible night, and the events that had followed. Those memories that were forged of the utmost distress and repulsion attempted to trickle into Twi’s consciousness, like a thousand needles prickling against her skin.   
  
Twi repressed it.  
  
Taking a sharp breath, she spoke. “I’m going to send Alma back – I shouldn’t have agreed to bring him here.”  
  
Zuu didn’t say anything. He was staring at Twi, though there was an oddly distant gaze in his eyes, which was somehow both austere and understanding.  
  
He didn’t disagree with Twi.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Several vines twisted about the window frame. The traced upward, like thin emerald tendrils with peridot leaves and pearly-white blossoms, their light scent trickling into the air sweetly.  
  
Alma waved his fingers. He watched as the cliffroses spread, with the stems moving up so they were beginning to cover even the top part of the window frame. They swirled about, moving with delicate precision as some of the buds sprouted like bursts of white, further decorating the window frame.  
  
A small smile appeared on Alma’s face. The window had already been pretty, but the flowers made it look nicer. At least, Alma thought so. One thing he had noticed about the citadel was that aside from the gardens outside, there were not as many plants around. Although it wasn’t a _terrible_ flaw, Alma did think that some parts of the citadel could use a bit more greenery – with the window in his room being one of them.  
  
Besides – it wasn’t as though Alma had too much else to do.  
  
Alma finished spreading the cliffroses, before he leaned forward with his elbows on the windowsill. He had opened the glass panels, allowing for a wave of fresh air to enter inside as he looked out. The sky was pale, with silvery clouds swirling into the blue and causing it to fade.  
  
A breeze brushed by, causing Alma’s bangs to sway a bit. Some of the cliffroses curled around the ledge, with a few brushing against Alma’s arm comfortingly. However, the comfort and distraction both only went so far, as Alma’s line of sight once more traced back to the skyline of the Acropolis.   
  
Wistfully, Alma watched the city skyline. He knew that it hadn’t been that long since he had arrived in the Acropolis, so he likely wouldn’t have been able to see the city right away. But, Alma was already feeling _restless_; despite having had the pleasure of seeing some of the citadel, there was still a stifling sensation to it all. He had been limited in where he had been able to go, and the unexpected arrival of the Noah had only made things _more _complicated.  
  
_‘Now I’m stuck in this room…’_ Alma thought, a small frown on his face. He knew that Bak had promised that they would go to the city at some point, but Alma had no idea how long he’d have to wait in that room until someone got him. _‘Maybe the Noah will leave soon, and then everyone won’t be as worried…’_  
  
There was a knock at the door, pulling Alma from his thoughts. He turned as the door opened, for a moment feeling a flitter of excitable hope that perhaps it was Bak.   
  
When Alma looked, he saw it was his mother.   
  
Twi walked inside, as she shut the door behind her. Her expression was reserved, though in this case, her eyes appeared somewhat more severe than normal. However, her attention quickly flickered to the window, where she noticed the cliffroses, causing the severity in her eyes to soften a bit.  
  
Twi glanced back at Alma. “You’re decorating?”  
  
Alma smiled a bit sheepishly. “Ah, yeah,” he said, as he stood up. “Bak told me to wait here, and there wasn’t as much to do – but he said he’d show me the rest of the Acropolis while we’re here.”  
  
As Alma spoke, something flashed in Twi’s eyes. A glimpse of remorse, quick and fleeting, danced across her eyes before her expression once more hardened.   
  
When Twi didn’t speak, Alma looked back at his mother. Noticing the almost steely expression, worry colored Alma’s features. “Mother, is something wrong?” Alma asked, concern pouring into his words.  
  
Twi took a breath, before speaking plainly. “You’re to return home,” Twi stated. “Once you collect your things, I’ll send you back through a portal.”  
  
Alma stopped. He stared, completely caught off guard by his mother’s orders – so much, that Alma had a somewhat delayed response.   
  
Completely baffled, Alma spoke, the words tumbling out as soon as his voice seemed to return to him. “What? But I haven’t even been here a full _day_-“ Alma began to plead.  
  
“I know, but now is just not a good _time_,” Twi countered, words firm.  
  
“Is this because I was outside of the meeting hall earlier? Mother, I didn’t even _realize_ the Noah were here!” Alma tried to explain. He wasn’t sure if that was the reason his mother was suddenly pushing for him to return home, and truthfully, Alma would have never argued with his mother before. However, Alma was already _at_ the Acropolis. Surely his mother wouldn’t make him return so soon, would she?  
  
Twi exhaled, already growing exasperated with the conversation. “Alma, this is _not _a punishment,” she reasoned, as she attempted to keep her tone calm. “It’s in your best interest-“  
  
“But why do I have to _go_?” Alma pushed, before he could stop himself. Inside, a small, meek voice tried to warn himself not to continue, and to stop arguing before anything escalated. But, Alma couldn’t help it. His emotions had started to take hold, and before Alma knew it, his mouth was running again. “I’m already here, and the Noah will be gone soon! _Please_, can’t I stay at least another day?”  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed, her patience wearing thin. “Alma, I said _no_-“  
  
“That’s not fair though!” Alma exclaimed, something in him breaking before he could think to stop it. “I’ve only been here a few hours, and it’s my _first time_ visiting!”  
  
“Alma, the answer is no and that’s _final_,” Twi said, her voice rising. “You are to return home and _stay there_ – do you understand?”  
  
Alma fell silent. There had been a stony finality to Twi’s words – the kind that insinuated that she was _not_ willing to accept any further debate. It was not often that she used such a tone with Alma, either, which only further caused any words to shrivel up in Alma’s throat, his heart thumping in his chest anxiously.  
  
Finally, Alma nodded his head. “I…I understand,” he said, voice quieting.  
  
Twi took another breath, as she also tried to calm herself. With how the conversation had escalated, there was a somewhat tense, uneasy feeling that polluted the air. Twi tried not to focus on it, as she spoke. “You can say goodbye to Bak and your grandfather before you leave – I know you didn’t get to speak to him yet. I’ll be back shortly to come get you.”  
  
Again, Alma nodded. However, he didn’t say anything as his mother left the room, and watched wordlessly as she shut the door behind her.  
  
Almost immediately, Alma felt the disappointment crash into him. It washed over him like a tidal wave: a heavy, gut-wrenching sensation that made Alma’s stomach nauseous.   
  
Alma rubbed his hands over his face, and released a breath he had unknowingly been holding. He strained to keep his emotions in check, but they were unrelenting in how they attempted to claw their way out of his core.   
  
Go back. He would have to go back home, before he had even had gotten a chance to _see_…  
  
By the window, several of the cliffroses had started to wilt.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The departure had come far too quickly.  
  
Alma didn’t like it. He had foolishly hoped that by some miracle his mother might have changed her mind, and allowed for Alma to stay at the citadel a bit longer. Unfortunately, that had not been the case, as she had returned to Alma’s room only a short time later to make sure he was ready to leave. Since Alma had not brought much with him, he had no excuses – he had to go.  
  
It felt awkward. Alma had only arrived at the Acropolis earlier that day, and already was being sent back. While Twi might have said it wasn’t a punishment, it certainly _felt _like one.   
  
Alma just didn’t understand why he had to be sent back home so soon.   
  
Twi and Alma walked, their destination being the main entrance of the citadel. Both Bak and Zuu were already there, with Zuu being the first one Alma wanted to speak with. Since arriving, Alma had not had any opportunity to say a word to his grandfather – and now the only words Alma would get to share with him would be a small goodbye.  
  
Walking over to Zuu, Alma gave the man a quick hug, which Zuu returned. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit with you more, Grandfather,” Alma apologized.  
  
Zuu gave Alma a small squeeze before pulling away. He offered a kind smile. “That’s alright, my boy. It ended up being an unfortunate time is all.”  
  
Bak looked over at Twi. While Alma and Zuu were distracted, Bak spoke lowly so that only Twi could hear. “Mother, isn’t this a bit extreme?” he asked. “The Noah are already being escorted back – Alma could stay, and it wouldn’t be a problem.”  
  
Twi’s eyes flickered over to Bak sharply. “It’s not a good time. We have to re-evaluate the barriers, and Alma can’t wander this area when he isn’t familiar with it.”  
  
A small frown appeared on Bak’s face. He was tempted to suggest that Wong would be able to show Alma around more, but stopped when he saw the steely resolve on his mother’s features. Even Bak was not brave enough to test that.  
  
There were a few more moments of goodbyes exchanged after that, though once again, the minutes slipped away too quickly for Alma’s liking. Before he knew it, he could stall no longer, and had to go.  
  
Twi walked over to Alma, before handing him something. “Be sure to give this to your father,” she instructed. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before I return, so please try to help him if needed.”  
  
Alma looked at the object. It was another message in the form of a coin, once more sealed and with its message obscured.  
  
Taking the coin, Alma nodded. “I will,” he said, as his eyes flickered downward.  
  
Twi took a step back. “I’m going to open a portal now – stay still until you’ve completely materialized back home,” Twi instructed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  
  
Again, Alma nodded.  
  
Twi waved her hand, causing a spiral of teal light to appear beneath Alma. It glowed and illuminated, with the brightness gradually increasing. Glancing up, Alma casted a final look over at Bak and Zuu before giving a small wave. Alma didn’t get a chance to see anything more though, because as soon as he did so his surroundings melted away, the colors blurring into an aurora around him.  
  
Alma watched. The colors blurred together prettily, and they offered a small distraction. Like before, Alma felt a tinge of awe as he watched the swirling aurora, though the wonder was diluted; it could not be experienced fully with the weight that tugged down in Alma’s chest, or the way in which his stomach continued to knot.  
  
The colors soon began to fade, as Alma’s surroundings came into a view. They were, of course, familiar: the trees, the flowers, and the estate. Alma recognized his home even before it had come into full clarity, with a strangely _flat _feeling overcoming him.   
  
Just like that…Alma was back. Almost as if he had never even left.  
  
Shoulders sinking a bit, Alma pulled out the coin. He glanced at it, already sensing the strength of the seal placed on it.   
  
Alma gripped the coin, as he started to walk back to the estate. He had a small himation over his shoulders, and had returned with just as little as he had left with. Several nymphs who were out front of the estate looked up, with somewhat perplexed expressions. However they greeted Alma fondly.  
  
Alma tried to smile back, with the action proving more difficult when it should have been.   
  
Just as he was coming to the front door, Alma saw it open. A very surprised Edgar stopped, as he looked at Alma curiously.   
  
“Alma…did you forget something?” Edgar asked, looking rather bewildered. “It hasn’t even been a full day – did your mother come back with you?”  
  
Alma stopped. He looked somewhat dumbstruck, almost as though he were some forest animal having just been caught in a trap. Everything in his mind had just come to a _halt_, and the next thing Alma knew, another rush of disappointment squeezed inside his chest.  
  
Swiftly, Alma handed the coin to Edgar before hurrying inside, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom.   
  
Without uttering a word, Alma slammed the door behind him.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The Underworld was just as dark as Tyki remembered it, and the castle just as hollow.  
  
Not that he had been gone for _long_ – the trip had hardly been a day, if it could even be called that. Tyki was actually a little bit disappointed; the experience had overall been a dull one, with little to no payoff. The Order had been as painfully stiff as ever, and with the constant surveillance and hovering, Tyki was almost _relieved _to be back.  
  
Even if the Underworld was a prison, at least Tyki could exist within that realm freely.  
  
Tyki rubbed his wrist. The silver band had already dissolved, with its impression lingering only slightly. Already, Tyki could feel the restraints of the confinement spell fading quickly, as his full power was returning in place. The sensations alone brought Tyki a tremendous amount of relief. The band had been a nuisance, and he was glad that the damned thing was gone.  
  
Tyki and Sheril walked into the main entry hall of the castle, which was a vast space with a large, staircase splitting into two smaller ones on each side of the hall. It was only the two of them, with Allen having only escorted them through the gates of the Underworld; Allen had not lingered any longer than necessary, and before Tyki could even get another chance to tease him, the deity had left the Noah, with the passage to the above realm closing immediately.  
  
Once inside the main entryway, Tyki turned to Sheril. “Well, that was riveting.”  
  
Sheril sniffed somewhat indignantly. “Really. They boast the desire to negotiate but never want to compromise.”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “Are you actually surprised?”  
  
Sheril waved his hand dismissively.  
  
There was the sound of feet pitter-pattering, and Tyki looked over just in time to see Road running down one of the staircases. She was dressed in a simple, lilac-colored dress with a ribbon around her waist, and a black cat in her arms as she raced over.   
  
“Tykiiiiii!” she called, before wrapping her arms around his waist, the black cat jumping up onto her shoulders like a shawl. Road looked up at Tyki, eyes viciously bright. “How was it? Did Allen bring you both back? I want to see him!”  
  
As soon as Road’s request was in the air, Sheril’s nose crinkled in disgust, as he turned to Road swiftly. There was a look in his gaze that could only be described as _scathingly_ protective, so much that it was strikingly disconcerting.   
  
“He’s already left,” Sheril replied smoothly.  
  
Road pouted. “Aw, I didn’t get to see him when he came to get you _earlier_,” she whined, as she continued to cling to Tyki’s waist.   
  
“You’ll get to see him….at some point,” Tyki promised with a lopsided grin.  
  
Road rolled her eyes, lips still puckered into a pout. “So, how was it up there? _Boring_?”  
  
“Oh, absolutely. Makes being down here a total dream,” Tyki said, as he glanced down at Road. “But are you going to let go, or are you just going to stay clinging to me the rest of the evening?”  
  
Road hummed, and didn’t let go. “I’ll stay here.”  
  
Sheril glanced over at the two of them, before speaking to Road specifically. “Road, have you seen Fiidora?”  
  
Road blinked, and shrugged. “I saw him upstairs a little while ago with Wisely. Don’t know where he is now.”  
  
Tyki also looked at Sheril, somewhat confused. He raised an eyebrow. “What do you need to see Fiirdora for? Thought you’d want to speak to Lord Millennium about what happened.”  
  
“I just have to ask Fiidora something,” Sheril said, before looking at Tyki and Road with a smile. “That’s all.”  
  
Tyki and Road didn’t ask any further questions, and Sheril left before such could occur. He went upstairs, with Tyki and Road’s chatter fading away into silence.  
  
Sheril walked on, entering into a dark corridor on the second floor. His footsteps echoed in the large, empty space as the torches flickered along the walls. Tall shadows danced soundlessly as they melted into the darkness, and the corridor stretch farther than what even Sheril could see.  
  
He walked on regardless. As he did, Sheril’s eyes remained alert, as he skimmed the area for any signs of Fiidora. For all he knew, the other Noah may have gone elsewhere – but somehow, Sheril had an _inkling_ that he was nearby.  
  
“Ya looking for someone?”  
  
The voice came suddenly, though Sheril was not caught off guard. He turned, where he saw a small hall breaking off; there, amongst the corner he could see Fiidora, leaning against the wall and half-melted into the shadows.  
  
Sheril smiled. “I was,” he said, words pleasant. “In fact – I was looking for you.”  
  
Fiidora looked surprised. Eyebrow raised, he somewhat straightened his posture though he was still slouching against the wall. “What for?” Fiidora asked. “Thought you and Tyki were going to be tied up with the Order, or whatever.”  
  
“Yes, and that went as well as you could imagine,” Sheril responded dismissively. His eyes gleamed, as he met Fiidora’s gaze. “But it was not a complete waste. I saw something that could prove useful.”  
  
Intrigue sparked in Fiidora’s eyes, and he straightened himself even more. “I’m listening.”  
  
“You recall eleven years ago when we sent our little messenger to the Chang family,” Sheril said, as he began to prod Fiidora’s memory. “With it, we sent something to…keep an eye on things.”  
  
Fiidora laughed. “Yeah, I remember. Sucks that their guardian did such a number on the akuma – the eye got scorched, and it made it a pain to keep tabs on anything. Pretty sure it’s in the ground somewhere now.”  
  
“Yes, I recall that misfortune,” Sheril said, before speaking again. “But I wanted to know if…you could still activate it.”  
  
Fiidora blinked, and scratched his head. “Yeah, I suppose. Won’t give us a crystal clear image, but I could make out a few things…if I knew what to look for.”  
  
Sheril nodded. “I could tell you, but I will need to consult with Lord Millennium first,” Sheril said, before his lips stretched into a smile. “I was thinking you could…send an invitation if permitted.”  
  
Again, Fiidora’s interest piqued. Then, a smiled appeared on his face as well, his yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness. “You want to send an invitation to someone? I could make that work,” Fiidora said. “Just let me know who it has to go to.”  
  
Grin in place, Sheril’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, I certainly will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t resist posting this chapter, so here it is! >:3
> 
> So, I have to admit: things don’t go completely to hell until chapter 9, so there’s //one// more chapter of some setup after this, and BAM. It’s all angst and pain and suffering from there. With that in mind, I might post 8 sometime by Thursday or Friday, depending on how that goes (it’s a little crazy since I’m writing for NaNoWriMo, but I already did a round of edits for the first 14 chapters, so doing the second round of edits normally doesn’t take me too long. :3).
> 
> But yeah! I really loved this chapter, mostly because Alma and Tyki actually have their first meeting! When I first started to work on this fic, I wasn’t sure how I wanted to do it - there was the possibility of waiting until later on in the story, but I actually liked the idea of Alma and Tyki having a bit of an unexpected meeting early on? I figured the Acropolis would be an interesting place for it - plus, it’ll make for some interesting interactions when Tyki and Alma meet again later on. >.>
> 
> This was also a good chapter to get some family tension in there. Alma has been raised to be a well-behaved boy essentially, but he’s (understandably) frustrated. His family’s way of interacting with him is rather infantilizing, and while Alma hasn’t necessarily matured enough to recognize that, he has started to get to that point where he’s restless and itching to have more space/freedom. Bak is probably the one family member who’s more sympathetic to Alma, since even he doesn’t quite understand why Edgar and Twi are so especially protective of Alma. 
> 
> This doesn’t make Twi or Edgar (or even Zuu) bad though, but they...might not always go about doing things in the best way? It’s complicated situation they’re in though, and without revealing too much, I hope that comes to light as the story continues.
> 
> Meanwhile, things are stirring up in the Underworld, and Sheril and Fiidora are...doing a thing. Yeah. That eye from the prologue is definitely coming back to cause trouble. >:3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter - feel free to leave thoughts or comments! <3


	8. Seed of Doubt

Alma hadn’t come downstairs since he had returned home.  
  
It had been a few hours, and evening had fallen. A few times, Edgar had glanced up the stairs, watching to see if Alma would come down – but Alma remained in his room, with the door shut and not a sound to be heard.   
  
Sighing, Edgar looked at the coin that Alma had given him earlier as he remained at the end of the staircase. He had read the message immediately, unsure of what had happened to warrant Alma’s early return. Upon opening it, Edgar’s eyes had focused on one line before anything else:  
  
_The Noah came._  
  
Edgar felt as though his heart had fallen into the pit of his stomach, as he had read through the rest of the message after. The words were alarming; the Noah had unexpectedly been at the Acropolis, and had only pushed for the barrier to be removed. Edgar could practically feel Twi’s stress pour through the message, as she explained how she would need to remain at the Acropolis for the time being, and that with all that had happened, she had needed to send Alma back.  
  
Wearily, Edgar put the message away into his pocket. He glanced back up the stairs to where Alma’s room was.  
  
Without waiting, Edgar walked up the stairs. He was quiet at he did so, walking just a short bit down the hall until he came to Alma’s bedroom. As he expected, the door was shut, and several vines and wildflowers were twisted around the doorknob – even going as far to cover some of the wall.  
  
Another sigh escaped Edgar, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Alma only ever locked his room with vines when he was really upset. It wasn’t something he did much if ever, and had more been something that Alma had done as a child. However, Edgar realized that it only meant Alma was probably distressed. His powers were so heavily connected to his emotions that Alma might not have even realized he was doing it.  
  
Gently, Edgar knocked on the door. He waited a second before speaking. “Alma?”  
  
There was no response, and a few more vines spread out around the lock.   
  
Concerned, Edgar looked back at the door. While he wasn’t one to push, he didn’t like the idea of leaving Alma alone for too long – not when Alma had already missed dinner, and had yet to come out.   
  
Edgar knocked once more. “It’s just me, Alma. Would it be alright if I come in?”  
  
Edgar was again met with silence, but he waited patiently. After a few seconds, he could hear the vines and flowers rustling. When Edgar looked at the doorknob, he could see the plant life pulling back, allowing for Edgar to turn the knob.  
  
Opening the door, Edgar poked his head in the room. There were already some candles lit with how dark it had gotten outside, giving the room a warm, comforting glow. A few books were also sprawled out on the bed, one of which Edgar noticed was one with landscape illustrations.  
  
Alma was there, though he was by the window. He was sitting on the divan with his knees brought up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them as his face was angled more toward outside. It was almost avoidant the way he continued to keep his attention planted so that he was not looking at Edgar directly, but Edgar didn’t want to assume anything just yet.  
  
Walking over, Edgar took a seat on the other end of the divan where Alma was. He leaned forward, posture relaxed as his elbows rested on his legs. “I didn’t see you at dinner,” Edgar said, keeping his tone somewhat light. “The nymphs put aside some food for you though – there are some dolmades and lentils.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered to Edgar, somewhat penitently. He quickly looked away again before speaking softly. “That’s okay…I’m not really hungry.”  
  
Edgar watched, concern once more pinching at his insides. It wasn’t like Alma to skip meals.   
  
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Edgar tried, keeping his voice gentle.   
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he continued to keep his arms wrapped around his legs. He shifted slightly though, and for a moment Edgar _thought_ that Alma was going to say something – but, Alma remained quiet.  
  
Edgar sighed. “Your mother mentioned that the Noah showed up at the Acropolis today…” he began to say, as he carefully watched Alma’s expression. “Alma, you know she wouldn’t have sent you back unless it were absolutely necessary.”  
  
Alma turned back to Edgar abruptly, before he finally spoke up. “But I was already _there_,” Alma tried to reason. “I didn’t even get to stay a full day, and the Noah were leaving!”  
  
Edgar looked at Alma sympathetically. “I know it’s frustrating, but it just…ended up not being a good time. Your mother, Zuu, and Bak would have all been tied up with working on the barrier. There wouldn’t have been anyone to show you around-“  
  
“But I don’t need someone to show me around! I’m…I’m not some _kid_ anymore,” Alma emphasized. “I would have been fine, but it’s like Mother didn’t even want to listen, and…”  
  
Alma trailed off, as his voice seemed to lose its fervor. He felt childish for how he sounded, despite his attempt to argue that he wasn’t such. But Alma didn’t know how else to express what he was feeling in that moment; some of what he was feeling were things that Alma hadn’t even _realized_ were present. They just seemed to have burst forward following the events of the day, leaving Alma overwhelmed and exhausted.  
  
Alma took a breath, as he realized his breathing had become a bit uneven. He averted his gaze as he tried to speak again. “I just don’t understand why I _always _have to stay here…”  
  
Edgar didn’t speak right away. His expression was soft, as the parental instinct to console Alma kicked in.   
  
Shifting his body slightly, Edgar reached over to place a hand on Alma’s shoulder. “I know it probably seems unfair with how strict we are. Your mother just…worries a lot,” Edgar tried to explain. “There’s a lot she has to think about, and she really thought it was in your best interest to come back for now. She didn’t do it for any other reason.”  
  
As Edgar said this, Alma shoulders slumped a bit. Although Edgar had meant the words in a comforting way, they only caused him to feel lousy – especially considering how sulky he had been acting. Deep down, he knew that his parents loved him tremendously, and that they only wanted what was best with him. It actually made Alma feel rather guilty for being upset with his mother.  
  
Alma looked over, as he glanced out the window. “I know…” he said, though he sounded somewhat defeated.  
  
Edgar gave Alma’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “A lot happened today,” he said. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll have some tea sent up here, and maybe tomorrow you’ll feel better.”  
  
Alma looked back at Edgar and nodded, just as a small, meek smile appeared on his face.  
  
Edgar smiled back, as he ran a hand through Alma’s hair affectionately. “I’ll see you in the morning, kiddo.”  
  
“Night,” Alma said, as his father got up to leave.   
  
Alma watched as Edgar shut the door gently behind him, once more leaving Alma by himself. He remained on the divan, leaning against the side of the window. Although Alma was still curled up on it, he could feel that his body had relaxed a bit, with his father’s words having to helped lift all that had been weighing on him. The disappointment of the day’s events still lingered, though it wasn’t quite as suffocating as it had been just moments before. For that, Alma was grateful, because he truly felt _exhausted_.  
  
_‘Father’s right….I probably should just rest,’_ Alma thought. He felt a slight pang in his stomach though, which he suddenly realized felt _empty_. Silently, Alma regretted his decision to skip dinner, and wondered if he could slip downstairs to get some food after all.  
  
As Alma made move to stand, he felt a slight chill tickly his body. Shivering, Alma looked out the window. There was no breeze, and the temperature outside was comfortable, but a strange tingle remained at the base of Alma’s spine, and he could feel the hair on his arms rise.  
  
Rubbing his arms, Alma continued to glance out the window. He noticed it seemed a bit quieter, with even the nocturnal birds and critters having gone still. A small frown painted Alma’s face, as he looked out into the darkness, where the trees melded together like a fortress.  
  
Faintly, a whisper echoed in Alma’s ears.  
  
It sent another chill down his spine, causing a second shudder to ripple throughout Alma’s body. He bit his lip as he leaned a bit more out the window, confused as to what he had heard if anything at all. But when Alma looked, he saw nothing.  
  
Quickly, Alma pulled back, as he shut the panels of the window.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Bak ran his hand through his hair, as he continued to pace about the room. “I just don’t understand _why_ she sent him back,” Bak was saying. “He was already here – I know the Noah being here was a bit unsettling, but to send Alma back home so abruptly....”  
  
Wong didn’t say anything, as he watched Bak pace around the room. A contemplative look crossed her features as he stroked his beard. He hummed quietly. “It was a bit…unanticipated with the Noah being summoned so quickly. I imagine it was quite a shock to your mother – it certainly was for me,” Wong said, before looking at Bak somewhat apologetically. “I’m sorry – I should have said something you your brother when I realized they were here, but I didn’t want to alarm him.”  
  
Bak shook his head. “No, that wasn’t your fault,” he said. He sighed. “It just…seemed a bit _much_ to just send Alma back like that.”  
  
“Are you parents usually this protective?” Wong asked, somewhat curiously. “I must confess I was a bit surprised, considering how long you’ve been active here with the Order. You were quite young when you came here if I recall correctly.”  
  
Bak crossed his arms, as he leaned against the wall. “Yeah…” he said, as he reflected on when he had come to the Acropolis to start training under his grandfather. At the time he had just turned eighteen – the same age that Alma was now. His parents had of course been worried; his mother had fussed a bit more than normal, and leaving home had been something of an ordeal. But, Twi and Edgar had _accepted_ it just fine. Bak had never exactly felt smothered or as though he were restricted in any way.  
  
With Alma, though….that was another story.  
  
Straightening his posture, Bak continued. “Mother and Father have just always been more protective of Alma. He is the baby of the family, after all, and there was…_that _incident,” Bak explained, before shaking his head.   
  
Wong looked at Bak curiously. “You mean…when that akuma attacked your family home?” Wong said, as he recalled the events. “I imagine it was a rather distressing time for your family…”  
  
Bak nodded. He recalled the time of the incident clearly enough. Bak had only been at the Acropolis for two months, having just begun his training with Zuu. It hadn’t been long before Bak had heard word of what had taken place; his parents had been quick in sending an urgent message to the Order, accusing the Noah of a targeted attack.   
  
The ordeal following had been nothing short of chaotic. It had been a domino effect, with some of the Noah being summoned to attempt to explain themselves. However, the end results had only led in solidifying the barrier – something that had not officially taken hold, but had been in the early stages of fruition.   
  
This incident had merely been the nail in the coffin.  
  
Bak exhaled, as his shoulders lowered. “That whole event…it shook both of my parents. More than I had ever really seen them,” he explained to Wong. “Even my grandfather ended up going to see them…”  
  
Wong looked at Bak, somewhat bewildered. “I remember that,” He recalled, as a small frown pulled his mouth downward. “I remember you wanted to go as well…but he advised you not to.”  
  
Bak stilled. Without even needing to be prompted, his mind raced back to that time – to when he had heard about what had happened, and the fear it had caused him. Like a sliver of serpents coiling, the memories slithered through Bak’s mind, painting vivid imagery more so than he’d like to recall.  
  
“Yeah…” Bak said, his voice momentarily growing distant. “Yeah, I did…”  
  
_It was late. Night had long since fallen, with the sky turning an inky black as it remained speckled by stars. The whole of the citadel was silent under its presence; everyone had retired for the night, with even the guards threatening to fall into a slumber.  
  
It was late – and it was too late for anyone to be traveling.  
  
Perhaps, that was what had alarmed Bak so much. Because despite the late night hour, and despite the face that everyone was soundly asleep, Zuu was awake, and preparing to leave._  
  
_“I don’t understand,” Bak said, as he watched his grandfather prepare to open a portal. They were both currently alone, isolated in a study and away from listening ears. "Why can’t I go with you? Are Mother and Father alright?”  
  
Zuu looked back at Bak, gaze firm. “Your parents are fine. They just need me to come for a bit.”  
  
“In the middle of the_ night_?” Bak asked, tone incredulous. “Did something else happen? Alma is okay, isn’t he?”  
  
As Bak asked this, Zuu paused. However, he spoke quickly. “Your brother is fine,” Zuu reassured. “They all are, and I won’t be gone long. You need to stay here to continue your training. Wong will be here to assist you.”  
  
Bak frowned. He hadn’t missed the hesitation, but instinctively wanted to dismiss it. After all, his grandfather wouldn’t_lie _if someone had been harmed. But at the same time, Bak didn’t understand why his grandfather was being called away so suddenly – not when his parents had informed the Order that no one had been attacked, or harmed by the akuma.   
  
Fine. As far as Bak had known, everyone was _fine._  
  
Zuu finished gathering his things, as he looked at Bak a final time. “I will return soon. If anything happens before then, send word immediately.”  
  
Obediently, Ban nodded. He didn’t say anything more as he watched Zuu forge a portal, before disappearing all together._  
  
Vividly, the memory lingered in the forefront of Bak’s mind. He had never understood what it was that had caused his grandfather to be called away that night. But what he did understand was that after that time, he had noticed a particularly strong shift in how his parents were with Alma. Bak’s parents often clung to Alma, opting to keep him close and never really allowing for him to leave their estate grounds. Alma had never even been allowed to visit Bak, with their parents giving countless excuses as to why Alma needed to stay home.  
  
Bak exhaled. With how overprotective his parents were of Alma, sometimes he wondered if something _had _happened after all.  
  
Almost as soon as the idea slipped into his head, Bak tried to push it aside. He instead focused on Wong. “Ah, I’m sorry,” Bak apologized, before shaking his head. “I’m probably overthinking this all…”  
  
Wong eyes Bak, his eyes understanding. “It’s easy to do in this situation,” he sympathized. “It was a disruptive day.”  
  
Bak nodded. “You’re probably just as tired,” He acknowledged, realizing that he was probably keeping Wong awake. “Maybe we should both retire for the evening.”  
  
Wong smiled. “It’ll do us both some good.”  
  
Bak was in agreement. With all that had happened, he was feeling exhausted. The day’s events had been more stressful than anything, and the prospect of going to bed suddenly sounded more enticing that anything else Bak could think of.   
  
Bidding Wong a goodnight, Bak left the study to return to his chambers. The corridors of the citadel were soundless, with only several, star-like lights illuminating the ceiling just above so that one could see. The lights guided Bak’s way, though the emptiness of the corridors were striking; there were hardly even any guards around, which somehow only emphasized the vastness of the citadel.  
  
Bak walked on, as he headed toward where his chambers were.   
  
He was close to arriving at his destination, when Bak caught a glimpse of someone down the hall. Their footsteps were light, and they were easy to miss in the dim lighting of corridor; the sight alone was one to remind Bak of some kind of specter, though the association was fleeting. He recognized the woman quickly enough though, as a somewhat surprised look appeared in his eyes.  
  
“Mother?” Bak asked, somewhat perplexed.   
  
Twi stopped. She had just been about to turn down another corridor, which Bak realized was the one that led to the chambers she was staying in. Twi paused as he glanced back at Bak, expression oddly neutral. “Yes?”  
  
Bak stopped, just as he reached her. He rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly, the skin feeling a bit tender. “Ah, I just wasn’t expecting to see you up with how late it is…”  
  
Twi raised and eyebrow. “You’re up, are you not?” she asked, as she watched Bak carefully. “Is everything alright?”  
  
Bak nodded his head. “Yes, of course. I was just speaking to Wong,” he explained. Bak then looked at his mother curiously, as he met her gaze. “What…were you still doing up?”  
  
Something flashed in Twi’s eyes, though it was brief – so much that Bak thought that perhaps it had been a mere trick of light. This was only further emphasized as Twi entered calmly, and without hesitation. “I was just speaking with your grandfather. That is all.”  
  
Bak remained quiet. The answer was simple, as well as one that was perfectly logical. This realization caused Bak to feel foolish for even questioning his mother; it was only natural she may have wanted to speak to Zuu after the day’s events.  
  
When Bak didn’t respond, Twi made a move to continue on. “It’s late – we should both retire for the night,” she suggested.  
  
Bak once more nodded. There was a weariness that was beginning to weigh on him, and he had no desire to argue with his mother on that decision.   
  
However, something itched at the back of Bak’s mind. It was small, and for a quick second, he thought he would be able to push it away. But, the thought wouldn’t be quieted, with Bak’s mind recalling the events after the meeting earlier that day, and without thinking he spoke.   
  
“Mother…what did Sheril say?” Bak asked, words somewhat cautious. “After I went to get Alma…I saw that Sheril was still speaking to you. Did he say anything more regarding the akuma?”  
  
Twil stilled. Her eyes glinted intensely in the dim lighting of the corridor, with her lips pressing together so that they formed a thin line. As Bak looked at her, he couldn’t help but notice how _severe_ his mother looked in that moment: hardened like a flower encrusted with ice, with the eyes of one who had seen something that Bak didn’t understand – that he didn’t know.  
  
Twi turned away, as she spoke. “No. He didn’t,” she answered, response short. She glanced back a final time, as she addressed Bak. “Go to sleep now. We’ll have much to do tomorrow.”  
  
Bak nodded, as his mother departed to her chambers. He remained there for a moment, alone in the corridor; although Bak was weary, he suddenly found himself struggling to retire, and his mind continued to reflect on the icy shift he had seen in his mother just then.  
  
Somewhere, deep down, Bak felt that his mother wasn’t telling him the whole truth.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The next morning, Alma awoke in his own bed.  
  
It was at first comforting. The sunlight spilled through the window, promising a warm and clear summer day, with the familiarity of Alma’s surroundings offering peace and security. It was a safe space – one that Alma was always protected in. He didn’t need to think about danger or risks, because everything was just _safe_.  
  
It was safe, and he felt safe. He even felt happy. For a small, gentle moment, Alma felt happy, and there were no fears or concerns. Nothing.  
  
But then, like a pebble tossed into a pond, a ripple of memories trickled through his mind. The day before. The Acropolis. The _Noah_…  
  
Being sent back.  
  
A small wave of melancholy washed over Alma yet again, despite his efforts to repress the sensation. He didn’t want to be childish, or to stew in what had happened; he had acted childish enough the night before with holing himself up in his bedroom. Like his father had said, his mother hadn’t sent Alma back because she wanted to. She had only wanted to look out for Alma.  
  
Alma repeated this to himself, but the ache of disappointment refused to leave.  
  
Alma only remained in bed a few moments longer after that. He already knew that he would only think more about the Acropolis if he kept still, and was swift to get a start to his day.  
  
_‘I’m not sure what to do though,’_ Alma thought, as he finished getting dressed. The one drawback to having gone to the Acropolis at all was that he hadn’t exactly _planned_ on being home. Alma supposed he could see if his father needed assistance with anything, or even the nymphs. Alma did enjoy their company, as they were always spritely and good-natured. There was also Fou – Alma wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he could probably find her.  
  
With several plans in mind, Alma left his room. He headed downstairs, initially looking for his father. However, Alma could find any sign of Edgar, even down in the chamber below the estate. Realizing that his father likely was out in the mortal realm attending to something, Alma considered finding the nymphs next – but when he did, they were all busy, assisting with early morning chores and duties. Alma naturally offered to help, but they sweetly assured him there was no need.  
  
A somewhat lost feeling overtook Alma. There was still Fou, but he wasn’t sure where she would be this time of day.  
  
Unsure of what to do with his time, Alma wandered outside. The sky was bright and cloudless, with a vivid cerulean color looming above, and the air was sweet with the fragrance of wildflowers. Immediately, Alma felt his senses soothed; nature was always calming to be encompassed by.  
  
Alma walked on a bit farther, heading into the forest. The birds chirped, with their songs filling the air, and a few times Alma caught a glimpse of a squirrel skittering about. The forest was simply picturesque in its appearance, what with the woodland creatures present and carpet of flowers that blanketed the ground. It looked like something out of a fantasy: too lovely for words, and indescribable.  
  
Alma came to a stop, just as he reached a tall, moss-covered tree. It was a cooler area, shaded from the leaves and offering some shelter from the heat of the sun. Taking refuge there, Alma leaned against the tree trunk, as he closed his eyes. A small breeze brushed against his skin, with the air tasting sweet and fresh as it filled his lungs. _‘It’s so quiet today…’_  
  
After a moment, Alma opened his eyes. He glanced around, before his attention happened to shift toward the ground where he saw an orchid flower wilting a bit.  
  
Concern blossoming in Alma’s eyes, he knelt down. It wasn’t often flowers wilted, but could happen with so many woodland animals in the area. This orchid in particular appeared bent at the stem, almost as though something had knocked it over by mistake, and a petal looked slightly crumpled.  
  
Gingerly, Alma caressed the flower. There was a small hum of warmth in his hand, before the flower’s stem straightened, and the petal renewed itself.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Alma turned, just as he saw Fou materializing a few feet away. Green light sparked around her, before it fizzled out entirely, leaving Fou hovering slightly off the ground.   
  
Standing, Alma smiled. “Hi, Fou,” he greeted, perking up slightly at the familiar face. “I was actually hoping to find you. I couldn’t find my father this morning, and all of the nymphs are busy…”  
  
Fou crossed her arms, as she allowed her feet to land on the ground. “Your father’s out for a bit – he was checking on some places outside of the barrier here since your mother is gone,” she explained, before looking at Alma carefully. “Then he asked me to check on you…”  
  
As Fou said this, Alma’s smile faltered. Averting his gaze, Alma rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “Oh.”  
  
Fou tilted her head to the side. She hadn’t missed the strained reaction, or the way Alma had suddenly fallen quiet. Exhaling, she threw her arms up. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about details or anything. I was just doing what he asked me to do.”  
  
Alma turned back to Fou. “You didn’t have to,” se said, somewhat quickly. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Er. You didn’t…my father didn’t need to worry about checking on me. I’m fine.”  
  
Fou raised an eyebrow. Alma’s response had hardly been convincing, and there was nothing but skepticism written on Fou’s features.   
  
Crossing her arms, Fou nodded downward. “Flowers. Drooping.”  
  
Alma looked down. Around him, a few flowers were beginning to appear limp, and a wave of frustration befell him. He sighed somewhat heavily, as he quickly knelt down, repairing them before he accidentally influenced them in any other negative way.  
  
Fou watched, as Alma stood back up. “Do I want to ask how yesterday was, or should I just leave you to be mopey?”  
  
The words made Alma want to grimace. While he knew that Fou didn’t mean anything bad, the abrasiveness made him inwardly flinch – especially with being referred to as _mopey. _“I’m…not _trying_ to be mopey…” Alma said, as he looked off to the side.  
  
Uncrossing her arms, Fou exhaled. “Edgar didn’t really go into much detail if that makes you feel any better. He just said that the Noah showed up and your mother sent you back after that.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he rubbed his arm. He bit the inside of his cheek, initially not even wanting to recount what had happened. The previous day now left an unpleasant memory in Alma’s mind, which made him want to cringe upon reflection.  
  
Fou’s eyes lingered on Alma a few seconds more, before another sigh of exasperation escaped her. “Okay, just _spill_ – I can tell you need to, so you might as well let it out before you go crazy or something.”  
  
Alma turned back to look at Fou. Without even realizing that he had only needed to be prompted, the words suddenly began to pour out, almost as if a dam had been broken.   
  
“Fou, it was _embarrassing_ – I got sent back like some little kid!” Alma finally broke. “I didn’t even last a whole day before something happened, and I only got to see the citadel – I didn’t even get to speak to my _grandfather_ until I was having to get ready to come back!”  
  
As the words came out, Alma realized that despite his earlier efforts, he really _wasn’t_ okay. He was disappointed, and he was upset; Alma had never been able to leave his home before, and on his first chance, he was sent back before he could have an opportunity to even _do_ anything.  
  
Alma took a breath, and continued. “Mother said it was because the Noah were there, but they were _leaving_,” Alma said. “I just don’t get why_ I_ had to come back….Father said it was because Mother thought it was my best interest, but I would have been fine staying there, and Bak never had to had to come home or anything when he was first there…”  
  
Fou didn’t speak at first, as she continued to observe Alma. She could see the way he was trying to keep himself under control, despite the topic clearly being an emotional one for him. With this in mind, Fou attempted to be wary of her normally blunt nature.  
  
“Well, to be fair, Bak’s situation _is _a bit different. He had to go with Zuu to train when he was eighteen,” Fou pointed out, as she placed a hand on her hip. “And you know, your parents _do_ only want what’s best for you…”  
  
Alma sighed, as he wrapped his arms around himself. “I know but I just…wish my mother would have _listened_. She just decided to send me back without even asking…”  
  
Fou frowned, as she shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I mean, can you blame her? The _Noah_ were there, and she didn’t realize it until you both had arrived. That’s not a small thing either – the Noah are _dangerous_, and she was probably scared they’d try to do something.”  
  
“But…their powers are bound outside of the Underworld, right?” Alma asked. “The one that tried to talk to me didn’t do anything-“  
  
“Wait, one of them _talked_ to you?” Fou exclaimed, eyes wide. “It’s no wonder your mother sent you back! Just what were you doing talking to a Noah!?”  
  
Alma stared, mouth agape. He quickly tried to find his voice. “I-I wasn’t talking to him! He just approached me, and I didn’t even tell him my name!”  
  
Fou shook her head. “Gee, I can’t believe this,” she said, as she leaned against a tree. “Your first time out, and you have a run-in with a Noah. I don’t know if I’m more shocked or impressed.”  
  
Alma once again averted his gaze, as his face heated up. He felt rather abashed considering Fou’s reaction, as it only seemed to emphasize how apparent his folly had been. It also yet again caused Alma to feel somewhat contrite for being so upset about it all in the first place; Alma couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he _wasn’t _justified in how he felt regarding the situation.  
  
“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose…” Alma murmured, not sure what else to say.  
  
As Alma spoke, Fou watched as his body threatened to slink back against the tree, arms wrapping around himself in an almost defensive manner. The sight caused her expression to falter.  
  
Gently, Fou exhaled, as her shoulders lowered. “Look, no one is saying you _did_,” Fou pointed out, not wanting Alma to feel blamed for what had happened. “But think about it: how else would you have expected your mother to react? She probably panicked. And she’s already high strung enough with everything going on.”  
  
Alma’s gaze rose, as he looked over at Fou. “You mean with the akuma…?”  
  
Fou wavered. Her eyes met Alma’s, and for a moment she looked as though she had drawn a blank, unsure of what to say or do. However, she nodded her head, and in attempt to gather herself. “Yeah.”  
  
Alma’s shoulders slumped. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Fou had known, but somehow, the fact that everyone had known except Alma stung. “Mother and Father didn’t tell me…I didn’t even find out until I was at the Acropolis,” Alma explained, feeling awkward at the memory. He could still recall how surprised Allen had been when learning Alma didn’t know of the akuma issue, and the thought made Alma cringe; he must have looked really foolish to have been so unaware.  
  
“Do you know why they didn’t tell me?” Alma asked, as he looked back at Fou. “I know they don’t want me involved in any politics, but it…feels weird being the only one who didn’t know…”  
  
Fou didn’t answer right away, and she looked of to the side pensively. “I don’t know, honestly,” Fou answered. “Maybe they didn’t want you to worry.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. Fou’s answer was a simple one, and on the surface, entirely plausible. After all, that was what it always came back to, wasn’t it? That Alma’s parents only wanted what was best for him, and for him to be safe. That they only wanted Alma to never have to worry about threats like akuma.  
  
A good thing. It should have been a good thing – _was_ a good thing. But Alma struggled to find satisfaction in the answer all the same.  
  
“Yeah…” Alma said, words halfhearted at best. He turned slightly, facing Fou more directly as his shoulder rested against the bark of the tree. “I guess I’m just…disappointed in how yesterday turned out is all. It’s just it was my first time there, you know?”  
  
Fou shrugged, somewhat nonchalantly. “Hey, it was a bust. You can be upset about that,” Fou said. “But I think considering everything it probably _was_ bad timing. Wouldn’t you rather go back when your family isn’t tied up in politics? Then you can make Bak show you around. Put him to good use.”  
  
Despite the moroseness he had been feeling, Alma felt his lips twitch, a small smile appearing on his face. All things considered, Alma could tell that Fou was trying in her own way to make him feel better, and the effort alone meant something.   
  
“Yeah,” Alma agreed, realizing that Fou _did _have a point. Going back to the Acropolis when things were so chaotic would be more sensible. Maybe once everything was resolved, his parents would allow for Alma to go back.  
  
Maybe.  
  
Folding his hands behind his back, Alma twisted once more so that his back was against the tree, his heels rolling back onto the roots slightly. “Um…so where did my father go this morning?”  
  
“Eh, near some village settlement,” Fou said. “I doubt he’ll be gone for long though – it was the same one your mother went to the other day. He’s just doing some follow-up to see how the harvest is looking there.”  
  
Alma nodded. He knew his mother often went out to attend to things, but admittedly wasn’t sure of the specific village Fou was referring to.  
  
Fou shifted slightly, as she uncrossed her arms. “I actually will have to get back to work soon. Your parents wanted me to do some additional rounds of barrier here to make sure everything was okay.”  
  
Disappointment pinched Alma. “You really have to go already?” he asked, unable to keep the hint of dejection from spilling into his voice. “You just got here.”  
  
“I know, but it won’t take me long,” Fou said. “I can come back after if you want.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he smiled. “I’d really like that,” He said.  
  
Gently, Fou knocked her fist against Alma’s arm, the gesture somewhat playful. “Good. I’ll be back then,” she said, before offering Alma a small smile. “Don’t cause any more drooping flowers.”  
  
A small laugh escaped Alma, causing his smile to light up a bit more. “I won’t,” he promised.  
  
Alma watch as Fou dematerialized after that. Her body evaporated, as speckles of energy floated down to the ground like the dust of fireflies, collapsing into crushed gems before they faded away. Alma exhaled, as he could feel the lack of Fou’s presence caress him, leaving him alone and without company.  
  
Alma pushed himself from the tree, as he glanced around. With Fou gone, he didn’t have anyone else he could really speak with. He only had himself, and the forest that surrounded him. While it wasn’t a terrible thing, Alma could feel a peculiar hollowness fill his chest; it was a dull sensation, as his heart thudded in what felt to be some vast, empty cavity.   
  
Deep down, there was a small tug pulling at his insides. It nagged and pricked, but did so quietly – so much, that Alma almost thought he could ignore it.  
  
Almost.  
  
Not wanting the feeling to fester, Alma began to walk on, tracing his steps back through the forest. He debated on whether he wanted to walk around a bit longer, or to return back to the estate. Alma did have some books back in his bedroom; perhaps he could bring a few back outside, and find a spot to read. That would have been a pleasant distraction.  
  
Deciding to do that, Alma began to walk back to the estate. It didn’t take long; Alma could soon see his home peeking out through the trees. As he walked to where the front was, Alma noticed there weren’t any nymphs around – which meant they were likely tied up with some other tasks.  
  
_‘Everyone’s busy today,’_ Alma thought, as he glanced around. A sigh escaping him, Alma couldn’t help but feel…  
  
Left out? Alma wasn’t even sure how to describe it. Everyone else seemed to have a set role, and their own responsibilities to attend to. But Alma was just…  
  
Alma shook his head. He needed to stop overthinking it. He needed to stop _moping_.  
  
_‘Just get something to read – that’ll be fun,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘Then maybe I can go out to the meadows after-‘_  
  
Alma stopped mid-thought. At first, he wasn’t sure why. Everything had just stilled, almost as though some strange, instinctual urge had taken hold. Faintly, Alma thought he felt a chill: small, and easy to miss. But there was a tickle at his spine, and the hairs on his arms rose.  
  
Then, Alma heard a whisper.  
  
It was indistinguishable. Alma wasn’t even sure if it _was_ a whisper; it had been muffled, and something of a murmur, far off and distant. It was the kind of whisper that one might have credited to being caused by the wind, but the air was still, and Alma was alone. At least, Alma _thought_ he was alone.  
  
Uneasily, Alma looked around. Had one of the nymphs come outside? He didn’t see any of them, and Fou had left. So it couldn’t have been her.  
  
Alma shook his head. _‘Maybe I’m hearing things…’_ he thought, as he turned to go inside.  
  
Another whisper.  
  
Alma stopped, as he turned swiftly. “Hello?” he asked, as he glanced around the area.   
  
There was no response. Alma frowned, as his eyes skimmed the area. The second whisper had been just as indistinguishable, yet it had sounded slightly louder – closer. But, Alma had no idea where the whisper had come from.  
  
As Alma remained outside, he felt a chill. Fighting back a shiver, he spoke. “Is someone there?”  
  
Initially, he was met with silence. The trees seemed oddly still, with even the gentle hum of nature having gone quiet. It was unsettling, and Alma felt an urge to go inside. However, there was something else in Alma – something a bit deeper, and more subconscious. Something that beckoned to him to stay.  
  
Finally, Alma heard another whisper – this one louder.  
  
Alma turned. He had heard where it was coming from this time: around the side of the house. With wary steps, Alma felt his legs move before he realized all that he was doing. There was a strange disconnect inside him; his legs felt heavy and light all at once, almost as though they had a mind of their own, whereas Alma’s heart thudded anxiously in his chest. Almost as though it were a butterfly trapped in a cage.  
  
Another whisper. It was closer, but Alma still couldn’t make out what it was saying.  
  
“If someone is there, can you answer me?” Alma attempted once more, as he walked a bit farther-  
  
Alma stopped.   
  
He hadn’t realized it at first. Alma had been so engrossed with trying to determine the source of the whisper that he hadn’t been paying attention to just _where _the whisper had been leading him. He had merely started to follow it, like some animal being baited along, following a trail left by some strange, unseen force.  
  
And that force had brought him to the dead patch.  
  
As always, the space wasn’t large It was just an area where the grass turned brown and sparse, and the ground dry and cracked. But, there was also a notable lack of energy pulsating from it; it wasn’t like the rest of the grounds, which were so full of life and prosperity. It wasn’t like the rest of Alma’s home.  
  
Alma stared. He knew that he had heard _something_, but the sight of the dead patch was causing him to waver.  
  
_“…Take me...”_  
  
Alma stiffened. The whisper came again, this time audible enough for him to make out – and it _was_ coming from the dead patch. Nervously, Alma glanced behind him; he still saw no signs of any nymphs nearby, and he had no idea when his father would be returning. Fou could return sooner, but Alma wasn’t sure how long it would be until then, either.  
  
Turning back, Alma took a breath. For his whole life, the dead patch had never harbored any life – even with his mother’s attempts to revive it, it had never been able to.   
  
_‘But then…what’s that whisper?’_ Alma wondered, as he took a few more steps toward it. He was careful as he did so, movements laced in caution. Alma wasn’t sure what he had heard, or to expect, but he knew that he needed to be wary. His parents had never liked him going near the dead patch.  
  
The crack in the earth stretched outward, spiraling like a vein of inky darkness. It almost resembled a spider’s web with how it swirled out, just awaiting for some small, tiny fly to fall into its grasp. The sight alone was enough to make Alma once more hesitate, as he debated on if he should wait to tell someone about what he had heard. That’s probably what his parents would have wanted him to do.  
  
As soon as the thought entered into his mind, there was a wave of resistance. No, Alma didn’t _need _to wait – the dead patch wasn’t actually a threat, and Alma was perfectly capable of checking it on his own. He wasn’t a child anymore, and he certainly didn’t need someone to hold his hand.  
  
Cautiously, Alma took a few steps forward – just to where he had crossed over into the deadened part of the earth. There was an unpleasant weight to the air that felt dull and lifeless, and Alma could feel his insides churn uneasily. Alma repressed the sensation as he forced himself to move on, approaching where the crack was.  
  
“…_Take…”_  
  
The whisper seemed to die before it could complete its phrase, but Alma could hear it coming from the crack all the same. Kneeling down, Alma looked into the crevice; it was narrow, and dark. Alma had no idea how deep it actually went either.  
  
While looking down, Alma thought he something moved.  
  
Alma stilled. His heart seemed to have faltered for a beat before speeding up, thudding rapidly against his ribcage. Alma didn’t look away though, as his eyes remained fixated on the darkness.  
  
Then, somewhat shakily, Alma reached down.  
  
He was careful as he did so. Alma’s hand trembled, feeling terribly vulnerable as he reached down into the narrow crevice. In a fleeting moment of unanticipated panic, Alma pulled his hand back, clasping it into a fist; he wasn’t sure if this was something he should have been doing.  
  
But, the memory of the whisper played in his mind, and Alma found himself unable to resist learning what the cause was.  
  
Again, Alma reached down. He still struggled to keep his hand steady, as he felt the dry, rocky soil brush against his fingers. Some of it was sharp, causing Alma to wince, but he continued to reach down as far as he could – so far, that he had managed to almost slip in his whole arm.  
  
It was at this point that Alma felt something. It was round, and spherical; Alma realized this as he knocked it a little by mistake, before he could hear it roll. Swiftly, Alma reached down farther, pressing his shoulder against the ground so that his fingertips were able to grasp at the object. He gritted his teeth, as he tried to knock the sphere back so it was easier to grab.  
  
_‘Come on – got it!’_ Alma thought, before he finally managed to get a hold of it.   
  
Pulling his arm from the crevice, Alma sat more upright on his knees. He then tried to get a closer look at the object –   
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as he dropped it.  
  
It landed on the ground, though it thankfully didn’t fall back into the crevice. As it did, Alma could see what it was: a cream-colored sphere that was faded with dirt and clay. It was small, too – only a few centimeters in diameter perhaps. It looked shriveled though, and in the center was a dark circle, with a slight split down the middle.  
  
From a distance, it almost looked like an eye.  
  
Alma breathed a sigh of relief. Well, it definitely wasn’t an _eye _– that would have been an unsettling discovery. Picking it up, Alma looked closely at the object. In a way, it somewhat resembled a seed. However, it wasn’t any sort of seed that Alma was familiar with.   
  
With the seed in his palm, Alma focused. He could feel something pulsating from within the sphere, almost like a source of life were somehow trickling throughout it. Shock filled Alma, as the realization struck him; if the seed harbored any life, then it shouldn’t have been in the crevice. It should be somewhere else.  
  
“You must have fallen down there…” Alma realized, wondering how it could have happened. “Was that why you were calling out?”  
  
There was no answer – not even a whisper back. Alma could still feel the faint throb of energy from the seed, and Alma found himself pitying the thing for having fallen into the crevice. _‘It must have been stuck there a while…’_  
  
“Alma!”  
  
A bit startled, Alma recognized Fou’s voice. In a somewhat impulsive motion, he hid the seed, slipping it the pocket of his chiton before he stood up.  
  
Turning, Alma could see Fou running toward him. “Fou, what is it?” he asked, when he saw her worried expression. “I thought you had to check the barrier – is everything okay?”  
  
Fou stopped, just as she reached Alma. She looked around quickly, as her eyes remained pensive. “I thought I felt something,” she said, before her pink-colored eyes landed back on Alma. “Anyways, what are _you_ doing here? You know your parents don’t like you being near this area!”  
  
Freezing up a bit, Alma’s words caught in his throat. “Um…I just…” he said, somewhat stumbling over his words. As he did so, Alma was a bit too aware of the seed, which remained concealed in his pocket.  
  
Rolling her eyes, Fou placed a hand on her hip. “Whatever. Just get away from there – it’s not like anything can grow in that spot.”   
  
Alma nodded, as he stepped away from the area. In doing this, he could feel something of a weight lift off of his shoulders – almost as though he had been shackled down by something unseen, and oppressive. Unable to resist, Alma glanced back, as his eyes landed on the dark crevice behind him.  
  
Fou noticed, and she scowled. “What is it?”   
  
Alma turned, and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.  
  
In his pocket, the seed weighed heavily.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Did he take it?”  
  
Fiidora didn’t say anything. He was slouching against the wall, eyes rolled into the back of his head, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. His expression was indescribably _blank_, with an almost lifeless look to it; his lips remained slightly parted, as his lead tipped backwards, almost like that of a hanging corpse.  
  
Sheril waited calmly. He was seated at a table, though he was not alone; at the head of a table, there was another occupant present. They were mostly concealed to the shadows, with their weathered skin ashen and their hands clasped together. In the darkness, a pair of ugly, yellow eyes gleamed from behind a pair of circular spectacles.  
  
Slowly, Fiidora rolled his head forward, his position returning to a more upright stance. Blinking once, Fiidora’s eyes rolled back forward, with his golden irises once more becoming visible. Turning, Fiidora looked over at Sheril and the other occupant, and smiled broadly. “He took it.”  
  
Sheril’s lips curled upward, though he didn’t speak; instead, the occupant at the head responded with a chuckle.  
  
“Good,” the occupant said, eyes burning brightly. His mouth pulled back into an inhumanly wide grin. “It’s been a long time since we had company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’ve said this repeatedly, but things have been building up, and /something’s/ going to give. 
> 
> As expected, Alma was focused on a lot in this chapter. He’s been set up to be pretty sheltered and naive in this AU, but even being sheltered can’t prevent someone from being curious. Alma’s really getting that restless energy about him, which, frankly is only going to be harder to deal with ever since he (very briefly) visited the Acropolis. At the same time, he’s so...conditioned to attribute his parents’ overprotective tendencies as an act of love? Which, causes him to hold back a lot. Alma’s interesting in that he goes back in forth between wanting to be “well-behaved”, but also is ready to have more independence. Needless to say, this divide is about to make itself known, and possibly be the thing to cause a lot of upheaval.
> 
> Bak I focused on briefly in this, though really, Bak plays a bit of a larger role later in the story. He’s a character that I wasn’t sure how to write at first, though I have to say I’ve gotten a bit attached to him now. Bak definitely has his own challenges, but ultimately, he’s not blind to the fact that something /somewhere/ is not quite right, and that observation will come into play later on.
> 
> I’m honestly really excited to share the next chapter, so I’m actually hoping to have it up by Sunday or Monday. There’s definitely going to be some excitement happening soon!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter - thank you for reading, and feel free to leave comments! <3


	9. The Sinking Lotus

It was difficult to tell when night fell in the Underworld.  
  
It didn’t help that it was always so dark: the castle itself was located beneath some onyx-encrusted cavern, with the hedge maze and city surrounding it twisting in a convoluted manner, some of the buildings tracing up, even onto the cavern walls. The air was often quiet, too; it echoed soundlessly, with only the periodic howl of some suffering spirit or hiss of some vengeful akuma seeping into the air. A wail. A cry. A whisper of the wind.  
  
Tyki exhaled, as a puff of smoke spilled from his lips. He took the cigarette from his mouth, as he crushed the ashes on to the stony windowsill.  
  
Tyki leaned back against the edge of the window. He had been seated on the far corner of the windowsill, looking out onto the dark landscape with a bored expression. Beside him, several dark wisps appeared, taking the form of butterflies. They fluttered about, with their wings beating silently.  
  
One butterfly flew close to Tyki. Without much thought, Tyki held up his hand, allowing for the butterfly to take refuge on its finger. But, as soon as it did so, Tyki flicked his hand, causing the butterfly to dissolve into a wisp of smoke.  
  
Standing up, the rest of the butterflies beside Tyki also dissolved. He didn’t appear to notice, and if he did, he didn’t appear to care. Tyki only walked on, exiting the room that he had been in before he entered into the corridor, which was dark and only illuminated by the fire of torches.  
  
His footsteps echoed beneath him, emphasizing the vastness of the castle. The ceilings stretched high above him, so much that it wasn’t always clear where they ended. Faintly, one could catch glimpses of unlit chandeliers of amethyst and smoky quartz, which jutted out like glistening bits of darkened stars. They might have been pretty to some – entrancing, even. But, Tyki had seen them so often that now he hardly cared.   
  
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tyki walked on. He could see someone approaching from the opposite end of the hall, though it wasn’t until they were closer that Tyki recognized them.  
  
When Sheril came into view, Tyki didn’t bother to spare a greeting. He wasn’t in a particularly chatty mood, despite his usually laid-back demeanor, and Tyki didn’t have anything to say to his brother. Because of this, he passed Sheril, gaze unblinking as he continued on his way without a second thought.  
  
Sheril, however, stopped. He turned toward where Tyki was heading, and spoke. “Where are you off to?”  
  
“Out,” Tyki answered without an ounce of hesitation. “I need something else to do rather than hang around here all day.”  
  
Sheril didn’t bother to ask anymore questions, though he raised an eyebrow at Tyki’s comment. “Oh? Well, if you stay around a bit longer maybe you’ll see our guest soon.”  
  
Tyki stopped at this. He turned, eyes only mildly intrigued as he looked back at Sheril, a look of dubious amusement on his face. “Guest? The only outsider we’ve ever had visit who _isn’t_ dead or an akuma is Allen Walker, and even he wouldn’t stay any longer than he has to. Unless he’s changed his mind, and no one told me.”  
  
Sheril waved a hand dismissively. “No, it’s not Allen Walker,” Sheril answered. “This is someone who will be a bit more beneficial to keep around. At least for the time being.”  
  
Now, Tyki’s attention was fully captured. He looked at Sheril, arms crossed as he tilted his head to the side. A slight smirk forming on his lips, Tyki spoke. “Really? Well, don’t be so cryptic like you are when you’re playing politics – unless it’s supposed to be a surprise?”  
  
Sheril looked as though he had the urge to roll his eyes, and opened his mouth to answer – but Tyki beat him to it, cutting the other Noah off.  
  
“You know what? Keep it a surprise. I’ll live for the suspense,” Tyki said, as he turned back to start walking. As he did, he waved his hand. “See ya.”  
  
As Tyki walked off, Sheril didn’t say anything. He only watched as Tyki melted away into the darkness.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_It was dark where Alma was.  
  
He didn’t like it. Alma had never been fond of the darkness; he had never felt comfortable near the shadows, which loomed like cloaked specters and night-enveloped demons. The darkness was unwelcoming, and it was _cold_; there was no warmth, and there was no sunshine. Nothing but cold, lonely darkness.  
_  
“Take me…”  
  
_Alma turned. A breath escaped him, forming itself into a puff of smoke, the frosty temperature turning it white. His blue eyes looked about in bewilderment, as he tried to determine the source of the whisper. “Hello?”  
  
As Alma looked, he didn’t see anyone. He was just in a dark place, with no sky; it was all an endless, inky black void that encircled him, with a stony ground and not a trace of life. _‘It’s so dark here…’  
  
“…Take…”_  
  
Alma looked around again. The whisper had been closer this time. It sent a chill down Alma’s spine, as he tried to locate the source of the whisper. “Where are you?” Alma asked, as his eyes sought for any signs of life in the darkness.  
  
_“Please…take me….”  
  
_Again, Alma turned. He was beginning to get confused as to where the voice was coming from, with the source of it sounding as though it had shifted. Around him, the darkness was becoming dizzying, and Alma could feel his heart rate increase anxiously.  
  
Shakily, Alma took another breath. He turned around once more as the temperature seemed to drop, the air growing frostier by the second. But, Alma could only see more darkness, with the rocky soil veiled by what appeared to be a fog-  
  
_‘Wait…’_ Alma realized, as he noticed something.   
  
It was small, but it was there. In the darkness and among the mist was a what appeared to be a pale, ghostly flower. Its petals blossomed outward, almost like some kind of water lily – a lotus, actually.  
  
Alma stared, completely perplexed. _‘But…lotuses are supposed to grow in the water…’_  
  
_“Take…me….”  
  
_Alma stiffened as he heard the whisper. It was there with a startling clarity, leaving Alma almost stunned. Especially when he realized where the whisper was now coming from.  
  
_‘A flower….?’_ Alma wondered, before he started to walk toward it. It was still cold in the darkness, but it was but a mute detail in the back of Alma’s mind. Suddenly, he couldn’t seem to pay attention to anything other than the lotus, which beckoned to him silently.  
  
As Alma reached the lotus flower, he knelt down in front of it. The white of its petals were so pure that Alma almost thought they might have been glowing, as a delicate luminosity appeared to shine from within.  
  
_“Please take me…” _t__he whisper continued, as it poured into Alma’s ears pleadingly. _“It’s so cold here…”_  
  
Inside, Alma felt his heart lurch. It _was_ cold – far too cold for a lotus flower to flourish, let alone without water. Alma wasn’t even sure how the flower had grown in such a dark place; it didn’t belong there.  
  
Carefully, Alma reached for the flower, his fingers gently grasping at the stem. “Here,” he said aloud, as he kept his voice gentle. “I’ll take you somewhere warmer.”  
  
The lotus didn’t respond, as Alma carefully tried to remove it from the earth. It was more difficult to do so than Alma anticipated though, and he struggled. Brow furrowing, Alma tried harder to remove on lotus flower. “Come on-“  
  
There was a _snap_, and the stem unexpectedly broke.   
  
Alma stared, completely shocked. He hadn’t meant to harm the stem, and he immediately felt guilty.  
  
On impulse, Alma tried to focus his energy to repair the stem, before the flower could be further injured. However, as he did this, he noticed something strange: black ink began to pour from the lotus flower’s stem, before it started to spill onto Alma’s hand. Alarm filling Alma, he dropped the lotus flower, with the black gunk clinging to his wrist, attaching him to the flower like some repulsive tentacle.  
  
Alma frantically tried to clear the black substance from his wrist, but it refused to let go. More of the black ooze continued to pour out from the flower, pooling out until it began to shift into a form: something large, and something hideous.   
  
Quickly, Alma tried to get up to run. He was not fast enough though, as the black substance pinned him to the ground, throwing him back against the cold, rocky soil. Fear spilling throughout Alma’s veins, he began to shout. “Let me go!”  
  
The black gunk did no such thing, as it continued to finish fleshing into its full form. Long, thin limbs and a decrepit appearance….  
  
Alma stared, completely horror-stricken as the creature became completely visible.  
  
A thing. It could only be described as a _thing_. Monstrous. Terrifying. It had long limbs like parts of a metallic machine, glinting of steel and slate gray. The metal was nothing more than a skeletal frame though, as appendages clung to the torso and limbs like slabs of rotting, deadened flesh. And it’s face….  
  
Its face was the most horrifying.   
  
No eyes. No eyes, and nothing but empty, black sockets, and a sharp-toothed grin. Nothing but the face of a monster.  
  
Alma couldn’t move. He was completely paralyzed, as the demon loomed over his like some oversized grasshopper. Its face lowered, getting dangerously close, and Alma’s heart was beating so quickly that he thought it would burst right in that moment.  
  
The demon leaned over Alma, grin unwavering. “You weren’t meant for the light…”  
  
Alma didn’t understand. He didn’t know what the demon meant – but whatever it had meant, the words struck something within Alma. Something so alarming and so unfathomable, that he nearly broke right there.   
  
“Let me go,” Alma pleaded, his voice beginning to rise. "S-Stop it! Let me_ go-_!”  
  
_“Alma! Alma, what is it!?”  
  
The voice broke through, as Alma could feel someone grip his shoulders tightly. The touch only alarmed Alma more though, as he instinctively thrashed his arms about, adrenaline flooding his veins.   
  
“Let me go!” Alma shouted, still panic-stricken and afraid.  
  
The grip didn’t loosen, and Alma could feel someone catch one of his arms. “Alma, _wake up_!”  
  
Alma’s eyes opened, as he blearily blinked through the darkness. His vision blurred as he tried to adjust to the lack of light, with this kind of dark space being different than where he just had been – or _thought_ he had been. Familiar shapes surrounded him, blankets tangled into his limbs. A window was cracked open nearby, with moonlight spilling through.  
  
His room – Alma realized that he was in his room.  
  
Shakily, Alma took a breath. His pulse was thudding in his ears, and his skin felt clammy. Cold sweat clung to his body, causing the fabric of his clothing to cling to his skin uncomfortably, and despite the sweat, Alma could feel himself shivering.  
  
The grasp remained firm on Alma’s shoulders, and as his consciousness more fully returned, he was suddenly aware of who had woken him up.  
  
Edgar looked down at Alma, stricken with worry. “Alma, wake up,” he tried again, this time, his voice lowering back down when he saw Alma’s eyes open. “Can you hear me?”  
  
Alma blinked again. The fear had not left him, as the terror of what he had seen clung to his insides like some unwanted infestation. Alma’s breathing was tense as a result, now shallow and uneven.   
  
“I…there was a _monster_,” Alma tried to explain, as the image of the creature remained branded into his mind. He tried to sit up, as he looked at his father desperately. “There was an akuma _here_, it was pinning me down…!”  
  
Edgar looked completely taken aback, almost as though he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to respond. He shook his head, as he kept a steady hand on Alma’s shoulder, helping him to sit up. “Alma, you had a bad dream – you had a nightmare. There wasn’t anything here.”  
  
Alma stared. His father’s voice was gentle and soothing – the kind of voice that normally would have put Alma at ease. However, he couldn’t forget the grotesque monstrosity that he had seen, and the vividness of which it had slipped into his dreams. “But…it was so real…”  
  
Again, Edgar looked a bit uncertain – even a bit uneasy. However, he reacted quickly, as he pulled Alma into a comforting embrace. “Come here – it wasn’t real,” alright?” Edgar reassured gently. “It was just a nightmare. You’re okay now.”  
  
Still somewhat shaky, Alma returned the embrace as he clung to his father like some scared child.  
  
“It’s okay,” Edgar repeated, as he continued to attempt to soothe Alma. “There’s nothing here – there’s no monster or akuma here…”  
  
Alma nodded wordlessly, as he tried to take comfort in Edgar’s words. He didn’t pull from Edgar’s grasp once as he tried to repeat to himself what Edgar had said. _‘A dream. It was only a dream…._’  
  
The image of the akuma never quite left his mind.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The rest of the night was restless for Edgar.  
  
Eventually, Alma had managed to go back to sleep. He had clearly been shaken by the nightmare though, with its impression keeping Alma awake for a solid hour and Alma flinching at the smallest sound and a fearful glint remaining in his wide, blue eyes. No comfort Edgar have given had been able to keep such fears at bay – no comfort had been able to ease Alma completely.   
  
Needless to say, it had been unsettling to witness.  
  
When Alma finally had fallen back asleep, Edgar had become too awake to even consider returning to sleep himself. His mind turned and twisted, as Alma’s account of the nightmare replayed in his ears.  
  
_“There was an akuma _here_, it was pinning me down…!”_  
  
The words were haunting. It had nearly caused Edgar’s heart to stop upon hearing them, as the image alone sent him back to that dark time eleven years ago – that time when an akuma had attacked, and nearly killed his youngest child. When it had nearly killed Alma.   
  
There had been nightmares at first. Night terrors that plagued Alma, before they gradually worsened into something more horrid. Edgar still could not allow himself to think about that time for too long; instinctively, his mind always strained to shut it out before the details began to flood him, before his heart threatened to freeze itself in fear.  
  
Edgar and Twi had dealt with it though. They had dealt with it, and Alma had forgotten the whole thing had ever taken place.  
  
Or, Edgar had thought so at least.  
  
Edgar leaned against the column of the front porch. The sun had just begun to rise, with the sky turning into dusty shades of pink and gold. Songbirds could already be heard serenading the morning air, and a fresh mist of dew sprinkled the grass. It was a gentle, calming time, and Edgar usually found solace in it. Usually.  
  
Not far off, there was a familiar spark of light. Edgar glanced over, just as he saw Fou materialize, a small frown on her face.  
  
“It’s a bit early for you to be summoning me,” Fou commented, as she walked over to where Edgar was. “You’re not normally a morning person.”  
  
Edgar smiled gently at the small quip. “Not normally. Afraid I’ve been up a few hours now…”  
  
Hearing this, Fou’s expression grew serious. Although Edgar had yet to say anything, there was something in his eyes – something ghostly, that brimmed with exhaustion. The detail on its own was alarming to Fou, and inside, she felt a pinch of unease.  
  
“What happened?” Fou asked.  
  
Edgar took a small breath, as he glanced near a few flowers on the ground. “Alma…he had a nightmare last night,” Edgar said, words soft. “Like the kind he used to have years ago.”  
  
As soon as Edgar spoke, Fou tensed. “You mean…?”  
  
Fou didn’t even need to finish her question, before Edgar continued. “He hasn’t remembered anything. Not that I’m aware of at least,” he explained. Edgar then turned to Fou, expression solemn – more so than what was normally for the deity. “I’m worried though. This is the first nightmare he’s had in eleven years. He shouldn’t be having them.”  
  
Fou’s body remained tense, as Edgar’s words seeped into her ears. A worried look crossed her features, as her scowl deepened. “I don’t understand…do you think something happened?” she asked.  
  
Edgar paused, expression contemplative. “I don’t know,” He admitted. “But I think Twi was right after all to send Alma back…I’m worried being so close to the Noah might have triggered something. Unless it’s something else, but I wouldn’t know what.”  
  
As Edgar continued, he found himself thinking back on the last decade. He and Twi had always been careful with Alma – they had needed to. Because of this, they had always kept him home, and away from the rest of the world, with their child’s fragility hidden from sight. It had been to protect Alma, of course – that was what Twi and Edgar had always told themselves. That it was in this his best interest.  
  
Again, Edgar told himself this: that what he was doing was in Alma’s best interest. That keeping those memories tucked away was in his best interest. He and Twi had come too far now. They had come too far eleven years ago.  
  
Edgar sighed, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fou…I want you to keep an eye on Alma,” Edgar said, as he met her gaze. “I need to go out again into the fields, so please keep a close watch on him. If you notice anything, alert me right away. I don’t want this to escalate.”  
  
Fou nodded. “I will.”  
  
Edgar released another sigh, this one slightly more relieved. As he looked back at Fou, there was a deep appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Fou,” he said, words quiet. “For…all you’ve done to help us.”  
  
Fou didn’t say anything, and she averted her gaze. “I’ll do a final check of the barrier now,” she said. “Before Alma wakes up.”  
  
Edgar nodded, as Fou dematerialized.   
  
As soon as Fou was gone, Edgar turned, entering back into the house. The whole estate was quiet, with even the nymphs still soundly asleep. With this in mind, Edgar kept his footsteps gentle, keeping as soundless as he could as he walked upstairs.  
  
He eventually stopped – just in front of Alma’s bedroom. The door had been left cracked open, just so Edgar could listen for in case anything else were to happen. Gingerly, Edgar pushed the door open a bit farther as he went inside.  
  
Alma was still asleep. His breathing was finally sound and even, as he remained curled on his side, expression soft and serene.  
  
Edgar exhaled, as he walked over. Alma looked peaceful then – so much, that Edgar hesitated on completing his next action. However, the incident with the nightmare was far too fresh in Edgar’s mind, and Edgar knew that this was not something he could put off.  
  
Very carefully, Edgar, placed his fingers onto Alma’s forehead. As he did, a faint, white glow emitted from his fingertips.  
  
The glow continued, as Edgar looked down at Alma’s sleeping form. “Sorry, kiddo,” Edgar apologized quietly. “But I can’t have you remembering anything…”  
  
A few seconds passed, and the glow faded away.   
  
Edgar pulled back his hand, as he took one final glance at Alma. Alma hadn’t stirred once, as he continued to sleep soundly, the blankets draped over him and his body still.  
  
Exhaling, Edgar turned to leave. _'__You had to,’_ he tried to tell himself, as he shut Alma’s bedroom door behind him. _‘You had to…it’s best this way…’_  
  
Edgar silently repeated the words to himself, but for some reason, found them difficult to believe.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Darkness….  
  
There was only darkness…_  
  
Alma blinked his eyes open. He quickly shut them, as the brightness of day spilled in through his window, stunning him slightly. Burying his face into his pillow, Alma tried to prepare himself to open his eyes once more.  
  
Slowly, Alma blinked. He had to squint a little as he turned, adjusting more to the light. As he did, Alma’s surroundings blurred into view, with the room looking far brighter than it would in the morning.  
  
Sitting up, Alma looked back at the window. As he did, he noticed that the sun was especially high – high enough that it would have been at least noon. Surprise filled Alma, as he realized that the brightness was only because of how late it was in the day.   
  
_‘I slept in?’_ Alma wondered, as he looked around in confusion. Alma usually was one to get up early – he always loved the sunrise, and the fresh smell of morning dew. It was incredibly rare for him to ever sleep in late.  
  
As Alma tried to stand, he wavered, a slight hint of dizziness taking hold of him. Steadying himself, Alma gripped his head. While it didn’t hurt, his mind felt muddled and clouded – almost as though a mist were clogging its insides.  
_  
‘A nightmare…I think I had a nightmare...?’_ Alma thought, as he tried to recall the events of the previous night. Vaguely, he remembered waking up at one point, and his father in his bedroom. But as for the rest, Alma could only envision a fog: the details of the night were hazy, and he couldn’t even begin to think of what he had even dreamt of.  
  
Alma shook his head, as he stood. Perhaps he could find his father and ask about what had happened – he would surely know.  
  
After quickly changing and cleaning up, Alma made a move to leave his bedroom. However, he stopped, just as he remembered the seed he had found the day before. Quickly, Alma walked over to the nightstand by his bed, as he opened the top drawer – which contained the seed inside.  
  
Alma took the seed, and looked at it. “I still need to find a good home for you,” he said, before he pocketed it. Alma still wasn’t sure what kind of seed it was, but surely he would find a good spot outside to plant it.   
  
Finally ready to go, Alma left his room and headed downstairs. Since he had slept through breakfast, he stopped in the kitchen to get some food before going out. There were some figs, as well as some fresh bread and cheese; Alma was sure to take a good helping before heading outside.  
  
Once outside, Alma looked around. He didn’t see anyone, but the air was clear and the birds were out chirping away.   
  
“Alma!”  
  
Alma turned, just as he saw Fou appear close by. She walked over, and looked at Alma curiously. “Have you been sleeping in? It’s already past noon.”  
  
Alma rubbed his head somewhat sheepishly. “Ah, yeah,” he said. “I…had a nightmare last night. I think, at least…I don’t remember it much.”  
  
Fou blinked, her expression momentarily drawing a blank. She caught herself quickly, and responded in a nonchalant manner. “Well, that’s good, right? Probably meant it wasn’t anything important.”  
  
Alma rubbed his wrist, as he averted his gaze uncertainly. “I mean…I guess,” he agreed, supposing that Fou did have a point. However, the strange, foggy sensation remained in Alma’s mind, and he found himself struggling to think as clearly as normal. “I just felt kind of weird when I woke up…”  
  
To this, Fou didn’t say anything. She only eyed Alma carefully, a small frown on her face as he continued to keep his gaze downcast.  
  
Finally, Alma looked up. “Have you seen my father?” he asked, eyes curious. “I…think I remember him coming into my room last night. But I must have been half-asleep.”  
  
“He’s out now – he left earlier this morning,” Fou answered. “Humans – I swear they’re so needy. You think they’d be able to last a few days without someone babysitting their crops.”  
  
Alma nodded. He wasn’t surprised to hear this, especially with his mother being gone. However, Alma was a bit disappointed. He had hoped to speak with his father, but supposed it would simply have to wait.   
  
_‘I guess I could go plant the seed…’_ Alma thought, as he tried to think of a few places to do it. Perhaps, somewhere farther out in the meadow would be best – Alma didn’t want anyone to ask about it, or to find out he had gotten the seed from the dead patch. Somehow, Alma just _knew_ that he’d be scolded for it.  
  
“I’m going to go check on the flowers,” Alma said, as he looked at Fou with a small smile. “I slept in so long, I really should move around some.”  
  
Fou nodded. “I’ll go with you,” she offered.  
  
Alma paused. He looked back at Fou, at first a bit uncertain; he had been hoping to find somewhere to plant the seed by himself, and wasn’t sure if Fou would ask about it if she saw him doing it. “Um…”  
  
Fou frowned, as she noticed Alma’s reservation. “What?” she asked, not entirely sure _why_ Alma seemed so oddly resistant. “You’re always asking me to come any other day.”  
  
Alma shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Ah, I know, but…” he began to say, before he looked back at Fou questioningly. “I thought you needed to keep an eye on the barrier?”  
  
Fou shrugged. “Well, while you were sleeping through the first part of the day, I did several rounds,” she said. “Even I need a break.”  
  
Still a bit hesitant, Alma smiled. “Right,” he said, realizing that Fou probably had been working all day so far. She was always thorough in what she did too, so Alma imagined she probably did need a breather. Besides, the extra company wouldn’t be bad – Alma liked spending time with Fou.  
  
As he thought this, Alma felt somewhat badly for even having thought to be dismissive. He probably had looked rude, and he hoped that Fou didn’t think anything of it.  
  
“Are you just going to stand there?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked back at Fou. She was eying him curiously, with a brow slightly raised. When Alma didn’t answer right away, she spoke again. “You’re just zoning out. I mean if you’re still worn out from the other day-“  
  
Alma shook his head. “I’m not,” he said, somewhat quickly.   
  
Fou looked wary, but didn’t say anything more as Alma started walking. Quietly, she followed.  
  
The forest was just the same as it had been the day before – lush and beautiful, with a carpet of wildflowers. Admittedly, everything looked to be in perfect condition; Alma really didn’t have much that he _had_ to do, given how he had been attending to everything all that week prior. The trees gently hummed with life, as the sunlight spilled through their branches, adding to the vibrancy of the color. Faintly, Alma could feel its warmth caress his skin, with the sensation causing him a small bit of comfort.  
  
Despite this, Alma remained oddly quiet as he and Fou walked through the forest. It wasn’t intentional; Alma just didn’t have much to _say_. His mind was clouded, and the last few days wore on him like a distant memory. Already, the events at the Acropolis seemed to have taken place some time ago, and Alma struggled to think that they had been real.  
  
In a sense, it felt almost as though he had never left home.  
  
With the silence stretching on, something weighed in the air. Fou noticed it; it was uncomfortable, and not something she often felt with Alma. Usually, Alma was so chatty and carefree – he wasn’t usually someone to be weighed down.   
  
Fou glanced at Alma, as she walked alongside him. “You okay?” she asked, just as they were approaching where the forest ended.  
  
Alma stopped. He had noticed that Fou’s tone had been wary, and was lacking in the normally playful bite it harbored. He nodded his head. “Yeah…sorry if I’m being quiet. I’ve just had a lot on my mind…”  
  
“Anything you want to talk about?” Fou asked. “A lot did happen the other day…”  
  
Alma wavered. A part of him was tempted to say that he was fine, and that nothing was wrong – however, he knew that wasn’t true. Granted, Alma wasn’t certain _what_ was wrong anymore. It was easy to think that he was still discontented about how he had gone to the Acropolis only to get sent away abruptly, but truthfully, Alma wasn’t even sure if it was _that._   
  
Something just…felt _off_ somewhere. He couldn’t describe it.  
  
Shoulders slumping, Alma exhaled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just…feel weird? I mean, I’m fine, but…”  
  
Alma couldn’t finish. He didn’t have the words, nor the understanding of what he was feeling in that moment. He just felt _hollow_, almost as there was a missing piece somewhere deep inside; but, Alma didn’t know what that piece was. He didn’t know what was missing, despite its absence being palpable.  
  
It bothered Alma.  
  
Alma looked back at Fou apologetically. “Fou, I’m really sorry, but….I think I just need some time alone?” he started, words pushing forward uneasily. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I just…don’t really feel like talking right now…”  
  
It wasn’t easy for Alma to say this aloud. He usually preferred company, opting to keep a smile on his face and not let anything so negative consume him. However, he just felt _worn._ It was as though he felt he could no longer put up a front of casual conversations or smiles, and he just needed _space_.  
  
Fou didn’t respond right away. She looked a bit surprised, and clearly had not expected Alma to say such a thing. Somewhat uneasily, her gaze flickered off to the side, as her response was delayed.  
  
Noticing this, Alma spoke up quickly, worried that he had offended her. “Ah, I really didn’t mean anything badly! Just…maybe later we could talk? I just want to spend some time out in the meadow to get some fresh air.”  
  
Fou sighed, and shook her head. “No, I get that,” she said, before she raised her gaze to meet Alma’s. “It’s just…your father asked me to sort of keep an eye on you today. He didn’t really want me to leave you alone…”  
  
Alma blinked, as a perplexed look appeared in his eyes. His father had asked Fou to keep an eye on him? _Why_? Yes, Edgar had asked Fou to check on Alma the day before, but to actually watch Alma? He wasn’t going anywhere, and it wasn’t as though Alma hadn’t been by himself before.  
  
“Fou, I’m just going to the meadow,” Alma explained, still unsure of why this would be an issue. However, the fact that his father had asked Fou to keep an eye on Alma lingered, bothering Alma more than he could deny. “Why would he need you to watch me? I’m…I don’t _need_ someone to keep an eye on me – I can take care of myself.”  
  
Fou exhaled, as she placed a hand on her hip. “I know that. He’s just worried-”  
  
“Fou, my parents are _always_ worried!” Alma said, the words coming out more explosively than he intended. But suddenly there was a dam that seemed to have broken inside, and the words spilled out hastily. “I don’t even understand what about – it’s not like I can even go anywhere or do anything!”  
  
Fou stared. She was somewhat taken aback by the outburst, but tried to respond swiftly. “Hey, I get it’s annoying – but they’re just a bit concerned-“  
  
“About _what?”_ Alma asked. He could feel himself beginning to grow more frustrated by the second. Already, Alma had to deal with his mother sending him back home before he could have had a chance to actually be at the Acropolis for long, and now his father felt that Alma needed Fou to watch him? He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma tried to calm himself. “Fou, _please_ just…I need some space. Just tell my father I told you I need space, and I asked to be alone if he says anything!” Alma pleaded. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t have some time to think!”  
  
Fou sighed. She looked a bit exasperated, almost as though she didn’t even know how to respond at this point. However, she caught sight of Alma’s eyes which were desperately pleading; they reminded her of some puppy, deprived and begging for just a little more freedom. Despite Fou’s toughness, even _she_ struggled to stand her ground when Alma made that face.  
  
Defeated, she threw her hands up. “Fine,” She finally agreed, though in the back of her mind she felt an unpleasant twitch. “But _only_ for a bit. Technically it was an order your father gave me, and I’m not supposed to break those…”  
  
“I promise I’ll tell him I asked if he says anything!” Alma reassured her. “I’ll just be in the meadow, okay? I’m out there all the time anyways!”  
  
Fou pursed her lips, and nodded. “Alright,” she said, as she looked Alma in the eye. “But if anything does happen…call for me.”  
  
Alma exhaled heavily. “Nothing will happen…” he said, before he turned toward the meadow. He glanced back at Fou, before leaving the edge of the forest. “I’ll just be out here.”  
  
Fou nodded, as she watched Alma leave. Then, without saying anything more, she dematerialized.  
  
Alma walked out into the meadow. He paused after going a few feet, and looked back toward the edge of the forest; when he did, he saw that Fou was gone.   
  
Releasing a breath, Alma continued on. _‘I can’t believe that Father asked Fou to watch me like that…’_ Alma thought, as he walked through the tall grass. Usually, his father was the more lenient of his parents; asking Fou to keep watch was something that Alma would have expected his mother to do.   
  
Needless to say, the realization was _disappointing_. Alma had thought his father trusted him more, and thought of him as a young adult. Not some child who still needed to be monitored and cared for extensively.  
  
_‘They never treated Bak this way…’_ Alma thought, unable to keep the sulkiness at bay.   
  
Alma walked on a bit farther, until he was somewhat a distance from the edge of the forest. Stopping, Alma sat down in a grassy patch, as the blades swayed amongst the breeze. Faintly, the scent of crocuses and wild orchids tickled Alma’s nose, while the sky remained bright and cloudless.  
  
Alma leaned back onto the grass, as he looked upward. His gaze pulled up toward the sky, with a longing look in his eyes. He often wondered how far the sky stretched; he knew it went up into the heavens, and at the very least covered the whole world, vast and encircling. Alma couldn’t even begin to imagine what all the sky got to see.  
  
_‘Definitely more than I ever will…’ _Alma realized, as yet another wave of disappointment overcame him.  
  
A few moments passed, as Alma continued to lie on his back. Eventually, he could feel his eyelids grow heavy, as his body relaxed under the warmth of the sun’s rays.  
  
Faintly, a whisper tickled against Alma’s ear.  
  
Alma blinked. He thought he had heard something, and rolled over onto his side. As he did, he could feel the lump of the seed in his pocket – something that he had somehow forgotten.  
  
Taking the seed out, Alma looked at it. He propped himself up onto elbow, as he glanced around the meadow, before finally looking back at the patch of grass beside him. There weren’t too many wildflowers there, and the soil was good – surely that would work as a spot for the seed to be planted.  
  
Sitting more upright, Alma placed the seed on the ground. Gently, he put both of his hands over the seed, and focused.  
  
It was only seconds before Alma could feel the seed sink into the earth.  
  
Alma removed his hands. He watched patiently, curious as to what it was that the seed would sprout. However, the process seemed to be taking longer than normal; there was no quick blossoming like what Alma usually could make, and only a small sprout was beginning to form.  
  
Alma leaned back onto his side, as he watched. Again, he could feel the warmth of the sun beating down on his skin, like a gentle embrace that threatened to lull him into a slumber. His body felt incredibly relaxed, as his eyes once more closed – surely resting for a few minutes would be fine.  
  
With his consciousness drifting off, Alma remained lying in the grass for a few moments. In the distance, he could hear the chirping of the birds, and the slight rustle of the grass as it swayed. He could also taste the freshness of the air, kissed with a floral sweetness that trickled into his lungs.  
  
_“You weren’t meant for the light…”_  
  
Alma shifted, as a slight chill passed over him. He shuddered, as he started to regain consciousness swiftly – so much, that he almost felt disoriented.   
  
_‘Did I fall asleep?’_ Alma asked himself, as he blinked his eyes open. The shift in awareness had been so sudden that he couldn’t tell if he had dozed off for a few minutes or an hour.  
  
Still on his side, Alma’s vision blurred into focus. The brightness was startling, but Alma adjusted quickly, as his eyes landed on where the sprout had been.  
  
It was now a flower.  
  
Alma pushed himself up. The sprout had indeed grown into a blossom, with a dark green stem and pure, sparkling white petals. At a glance, Alma thought it was some sort of a lily, but upon closer observation, he realized that it was a lotus.  
  
Confusion filled Alma. Lotus flowers…they only grew in the water. It was the kind of environment they needed in order to thrive. Alma thus wondered if perhaps this was why the sprout had taken longer to grow, even with Alma’s aid – if it had been meant for a watery environment, it had probably struggled in the meadow’s soil.  
  
Guilt filled Alma. It was a rather juvenile mistake for him to make, and he realized that he would need to relocate the lotus in order for it do to well.   
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were a lotus…you probably don’t like this soil very much,” Alma apologized, before he went to take the stem.  
  
Alma stilled as soon as he touched it.  
  
It was a strange feeling: a cold, icy chill that trickled through his hand. The sensation was vaguely familiar, to the point of Alma wondering if he might have been experiencing déjà vu. However, Alma couldn’t recall where the familiarity came from, and he shook his head.  
  
_‘Weird,’_ he thought, as he again went to take the flower by the stem. Focusing, his other hand on the ground, he tried to uproot the flower, but it wouldn’t budge. It felt as though it were sealed tightly into the ground despite Alma’s attempts to call it up, with the stem remaining stubbornly in place.  
  
Alma frowned. He never had trouble uprooting plants if needed, but this one wouldn’t move. Focusing still, Alma tugged on the stem a bit harder. “Come on-“  
  
Again, the feeling of déjà vu trickled the back of Alma’s mind, but he forced himself to ignore it. If he could just get the lotus to _move-_  
  
Alma gasped. He had tugged too hard, with his grasp on the stem slipping, his hand brushing against one of the petals. But what had stunned Alma wasn’t that – the petals had been _sharp_. They had been sharper than any petals should have ever been, almost like serrated knives.  
  
Gripping his hand, Alma looked at it. On the side of his index finger, he had cut himself.  
  
The wound stung, and Alma bit the inside of his cheek. He looked back at the lotus, where could see some of his blood had spilled onto the petals, staining the white.  
  
Alma stared, at first not sure what to do. He was still somewhat stunned by the sting, and by the strangeness of the lotus itself. Should he try again? No, probably not – perhaps he should have asked for help with this after all. Alma glanced at his finger once more, before his attention returned back to the lotus.  
  
Alma froze.  
  
The bloodstain. It had been but a droplet at first, contained to only the one petal – but when Alma looked, he could see it spreading, with the remainder of the lotus darkening into a deep, blood red color. It was so dark that it almost looked black: an inky velvet corrupting what was once the purest white.  
  
Then, the lotus began to crumble to ash.  
  
Not just the lotus – the ground as well. Quickly, a sinkhole was beginning to form as the earth started to collapse from below into charcoal-colored debris. The sound of rocks falling and earth shifting echoed loudly, sending a shock of alarm throughout Alma, who had up until this point been staring in wide-eyed shock.  
  
Quickly Alma scooted back, before he pushed himself onto his legs. He turned in an attempt to run. “Fou-!”  
  
Alma was cut off, as something yanked him by the ankles. He shouted as his body slammed against the ground, before he could feel himself getting dragged back toward where the sinkhole had formed. In a panic, he reached out his hands, just as several vines sprouted from the meadow a bit farther away. They wrapped around Alma’s wrists as he gripped them, trying to cling so he wouldn’t be dragged back any farther.   
  
There was a sharp _jerk, _and Alma winced as he could feel his ankles being tugged. His heart hammered in his chest, and as anxiety and fear began to flood him he again tried to scream for help. “_Fou_!”  
  
A shock of green electricity appeared close by, and Fou appeared. “What-“ she began to say, as she finished materializing. However, Fou stopped short as soon as she saw what was happening, her eyes bulging. “Alma!”  
  
Fou ran, charging to where Alma was. Before she got too close, something long and black slammed into her. It almost looked as though it had been some kind of tentacle, throwing her back before she could reach Alma.  
  
Hastily, Fou pushed herself back up. “Alma, don’t let go of those vines!” she shouted, as her hands shifted into two curved blades as she charged back at the tentacle.  
  
Alma gritted his teeth. He was still clinging to the vines in an attempt to anchor himself, but could feel whatever was pulling him tug harder. Glancing back, Alma looked to see just what it was: he nearly felt his heart stop.  
  
Vines. Tentacles. Alma didn’t know what they were, but they were inky and they were dark; they had wrapped around his ankles, and one had just stretched further to wrap around his waist, its touch cold and slick.   
  
Adrenaline pumping, Alma felt the tentacles try to yank him back. “Let me go!” he shouted, as he tried to cling to his own vines for safety. “Get off of me!”  
  
The tentacles did no such thing, as they only pulled at Alma more aggressively. Their grip was _tightening_, too – Alma could feel the strength of the tentacles compressing his legs and waist, with pain searing throughout him. Soon, Alma could feel his focus collapsing, with the pain making it difficult to concentrate on the vines that he had summoned.  
  
Alma’s vision hazed. His breathing felt shallow, and even the vines he had wrapped around his wrists were beginning to sear with pain. Fearfully, Alma realized he didn’t know how much longer he could last; if he held on much longer, he felt as though his body would be ripped apart.  
  
“Fou, I can’t hold on much longer!” Alma screamed, completely frantic.   
  
Fou looked over at Alma. She hadn’t been able to get close, though several tentacles remained, acting as a barricade. She swiftly attacked one with her bladed hands, before shouting back to Alma. “Alma, don’t let go!”  
  
Alma bit his lip. He was _trying_-  
  
The tentacles yanked him once more, just as their grip tightened. It was a sudden pull, causing Alma’s shoulders to yank painfully. Moisture welled in the corners of his eyes, as a horrible pain shot throughout all of Alma’s body. _‘No-!’_  
  
Unable to take it, Alma lost his grip on the vines. He tried to grip at the soil, with his nails digging into the earth – but he was dragged back too forcefully, and too swiftly. “Fou-!”  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to finish. The tentacles pulled him, yanking him back toward the sinkhole before the rest of his screams could reach the air. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe – he could only struggle as the tentacles trapped him, pulling him faster-  
  
They pulled him down, into the darkness. And like a lotus, Alma was dragged deep into the earth.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“He’s on his way now,” Fiidora said, as the whites of his eyes rolled forward, his golden irises appearing once more. He looked over at Sheril with a grin, as he leaned back against the wall. “Put up a bit of a fight though. I don’t think he’ll be too happy down here.”  
  
Sheril’s expression was dismissive. “I really don’t care if he’s happy,” he said, before a cold smile tugged at his lips. “If anything, it’ll only give his family more incentive to cooperate. I’m sure they’ll be quite eager to see him again.”  
  
A soft giggle danced into the air. Road looked over at Sheril and Fiidora, curled into a seat as a black cat remained perched on the armrest.   
  
“I want to play with him when he gets here,” Road said, as her eyes gleamed. “Lulu Bell and I could use a new playmate.”  
  
Fiidora again laughed. “Sure, torturing him is bound to make him feel right at home.”  
  
“I’m not going to _torture_ him,” Road emphasized sweetly, as she leaned back in the chair. Her eyes sparkled, as her teeth gleamed like sharpened pearls in the darkness. “Maybe just…play with him until he breaks. Nothing too extreme.”  
  
“Road, do be gentle with him – I don’t think his family will be as cooperative if the boy is in shambles,” Sheril pointed out, before smiling at her kindly. “You could be the one to greet him when he arrives. I imagine it’ll only be a few minutes from now.”  
  
Road beamed, pleased by the suggestion. “Okay,” she gushed, with a childish tremor of excitement in her voice. She stood up, as she took the black cat into her arms. “Come on, Lulu Bell – let’s go welcome our new house guest.”  
  
Road left after that, skipping from the room as she left Sheril and Fiidora inside. As soon as they were alone, Sheril turned to Fiidora. “Did anyone see?” he asked, tone more serious.  
  
Fiidora nodded. “Yeah – some little guardian the Changs. The one always watching over their home,” Fiidora said. “She saw, so I’m guessing she’ll run back to her masters pretty quickly.”  
  
“Good,” Sheril said, as her words remained cool. “That only means this process should be moving along quickly. I suspect someone from the Order will be contacting us soon…”  
  
“Eh. They won’t be able to do much without negotiating,” Fiidora said, as he grinned. “Not when we have a blood contract signed.”  
  
Sheril smiled. “Of course,” he said, somewhat smug. “Blood contracts _are_ unbreakable, after all…”  
  
As he said this, Sheril’s eyes traced over to a nearby end table. There were not many things on it, save for a candle burning and some parchment. But on top of everything, one object stood out:  
  
A bloodstained lotus.   
  
The lotus was there, looking withered as though the life had been drained from it. Its petals which once were snow white now remained painted blackened burgundy, as it rested upon a parchment. On the parchment, there were words written – all in black, save for the red name scribbled at the bottom.  
  
Alma. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, the flower boy is being dragged to the Underworld. ;__;
> 
> When I first started working on this, I knew I wanted to incorporate the version of Persephone getting taken to the Underworld by picking a flower. It’s a daffodil in the original myth, but I wanted to change it to a lotus because of the imagery of that particular flower sinking into the darkness. It already works with Alma because of the canon storyline, and in this AU it felt like a good opportunity to use it. (Also, lotus seeds while smaller than an eye in diameter definitely...look like an eye. Seriously, if you haven’t yet google what lotus seeds look like. They look like shriveled eyes. XD)
> 
> From here on out, it’s a lot of drama and angst, and the tone is going to get darker. I advise things like tea, blankets, ice cream - whatever will help to ease you as you read on. :3 (Next chapter should be up by Thursday/Friday!)
> 
> Thank you all for reading! ^^


	10. An Unwilling Guest

Tyki had been out all night.  
  
He assumed so, at least – maybe it had been all night, or maybe longer. He never bothered to keep track of time. Such a measurement was more used by the mortals, who subjected themselves to the slavery of such a thing. It wasn’t used by the Noah – not in the same way, at least.  
  
In other words, time was meaningless, and Tyki really didn’t give a damn about it.  
  
The air brushed against his skin, cold and somewhat damp. It always felt like that among the hedge maze that encircled the castle, which acted as a barrier between that and the ghostly city that stretched outward. Buildings crumbled on the very outskirts, leaving skeletal foundations of metal and iron, while the streets jutted out with broken, uneven slabs of stone. Glass was either shattered or fogged, and doors left hanging open on rusted hinges.   
  
The inner part of the city wasn’t so ravaged. Some buildings looked more whole, yet they still had strange twists and spirals to their designs, like some dark, wicked distortion of something that may have once been beautiful.  
  
Tyki had spent the majority of the night there. It hadn’t been the most enthralling experience; the outskirts of the city were all but abandoned, save for a few weaker akumas that prowled about like ravaged creatures. As for the inner part of the city, that harbored a slightly different population – still sparse, with nothing but phantasms of those who had failed to cross over into death completely. Impressions of what may have once been human life, now reduced to ghostly visions and half-formed humans, withered and broken.  
  
Somehow, they were still interesting enough to Tyki – interesting enough that he didn’t mind spending time amongst them.  
  
But, he knew he had to return. As much as Tyki preferred to enjoy himself and seek pleasure elsewhere, he knew he needed to return to his family. He always did.  
  
This didn’t mean that Tyki _rushed_ to go back, though. He took his time, winding through what would have appeared to have been an impossible maze of hedges; it twisted and turned endlessly, causing it to have something of a dizzying effect.   
  
Tyki was completely unfazed, as he took his time trekking through the hedge maze. If anything, it was a leisurely stroll; he knew the maze well enough, and he knew how to get through it.  
  
Anyone else would have had no such luck.  
  
Almost too quickly, Tyki could feel himself approaching the end of the hedge maze. It broke off, exiting into what appeared to be a garden. The flowers were pale, and mostly of nocturnal breeds; they remained in bloom despite the darkness of the underworld, their petals white and silvery amongst the everlasting shadows. Not far off, a stone fountain could be seen, just in front of the center of the hedge maze’s entrance, the water quiet and still.  
  
Tyki didn’t bother to admire it. He saw it every day, and couldn’t have cared less about the fountain.  
  
Languidly, Tyki shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked past the fountain, heading toward the castle’s main entrance. The tall, dark wooden doors were intricately carved, and inlaid with iron and onyx. Motifs bordered the door, with archaic symbols that only the Noah knew – words that extended farther back in history that what any mortal could have ever recorded.  
  
Ancient. Sacred. Now meaningless. Ultimately, they were only words to Tyki.  
  
As Tyki walked to the front entrance, a distant, rumbling sound could be heard. It was faint at first, like a small tremor in the earth; however, it quickly increased in volume as a heavy, crumbling noise began to vibrate in Tyki’s ears.  
  
Tyki turned, just as the crescendo of noise reached its peak. From high above, something burst through the top of the gem-encrusted cavern; a waterfall of ink-like tentacles collapsed onto the ground, spidery and twisting as they curled and rippled harshly. At the base they twitched, as they appeared to be slithering over some sort of object – though Tyki hadn’t the slightest idea what it was.  
  
Expression oddly neutral, Tyki watched calmly as the tentacles pulled back. They retracted, before slithering back upward into the ceiling of the cavern, with the rock and stone rumbling as it fitted back into place.  
  
Tyki watched as the ceiling shifted back to normal, before returning his attention to whatever it was the tentacles had brought-  
  
He blinked.  
  
It was a person. They had been left on the ground, unconscious and unmoving, but they were definitely a _person_.  
  
Intrigue burned in Tyki’s eyes, as he walked over to where the body was. He crouched down so he could get a better look at the individual: a young man with boyish features, and dressed in some plain, traditional chiton. His short hair was in something of a disarray with nothing but a thin, golden circlet to keep it in place, and a long scar could be seen across the bridge of his nose.   
  
Tyki frowned. The young man – or _boy_, really – wasn’t particularly interesting to look at, but Tyki felt a small nudge in the back of his mind. _‘Wait…’_  
  
_Smiling broadening, Tyki’s eyes gleamed, as he eyed the anxious young man. “I don’t know you though – are you one of Walker’s little friends?”_  
  
The Acropolis. Tyki had seen him at the Acropolis with Allen Walker. It hadn’t been a long interaction though, and admittedly, Tyki hadn’t given the boy a second thought. He hadn’t been exactly entertaining to engage with, and had been removed from the meeting hall somewhat abruptly – by someone Chang, if Tyki recalled correctly.  
  
There was a loud, heavy _creak_ behind Tyki, causing him to turn. When he looked, he could see Road standing in the doorway, with Lulu Bell in her arms. An annoyed look crossed her features, as she quickly noticed the boy’s body beside Tyki.  
  
“Aw, did he faint? I was supposed to be the one to welcome him when he got here,” she pouted.  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, as he stood. “What’s he doing here?” he asked, completely perplexed.   
  
Road tilted her head to the side, as her eyes gleamed brightly in the darkness. “Didn’t Sheril tell you we were having company?” she asked, as an excitable tremor tickled her throat. “His name is Alma, and he’s from the Chang Family. But he’ll be staying with us for now.”  
  
Tyki blinked, before a laugh escaped him. “What, we’re having a _Chang_ stay? Sounds like trouble,” he said, more amused than anything else by the idea. Tyki looked back at were Alma was, and there was sill of lack of clarity in his understanding. “But why this one? Not sure how useful Flower Boy will be…”  
  
Road hummed, as she kicked her foot across the ground gently. “Mmm, he’s the youngest in the family, and I guess his parents are really protective of him,” she said, as she smiled at Tyki sweetly. “Imagine how badly they’ll want him back.”  
  
Tyki looked back at Road, with mild surprise in his eyes. “You mean we’re kidnapping people now? Shit, no one told me that…”  
  
Road rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not _kidnapping_ – we just sent him an invitation, and he accepted. It’s not our fault he didn’t realize it.”  
  
Tyki snorted. He shouldn’t have been surprised by the rationale, although he still _was_ rather intrigued by the whole ordeal. When Sheril had mentioned that they had company coming, Tyki certainly wouldn’t have expected someone from the Chang Family – not when it had been the Changs who had helped to seal the Noah away, trapping them in the Underworld and without an ounce of freedom to their name.  
  
Tyki turned back to Alma. “So what do we do with Flower Boy now? Tentacles just dropped him off here.”  
  
Road sighed daintily. “Well, I _guess_ we can take him to his room. There’s one set up for him already,” she said, before she smiled at Tyki vibrantly. “Glad you showed up – you can carry him for me.”  
  
Tyki sighed. “Always bossing me around – I’ll remember this the next time you ask for anything,” he said.   
  
Despite his words, Tyki didn’t hesitate as he went over to where Alma’s body was, as he scooped him up with ease. Alma was limp in Tyki’s grasp though, and didn’t even stir; Tyki realized that whatever had happened had really knocked the boy _out_, whether it was from the shock of being brought to the Underworld or something else.  
  
_‘Probably just got freaked out a little,’_ Tyki thought, though he didn’t voice the words aloud. The thought itself wasn’t concerning, and the boy was breathing just fine. Tyki would just take him to wherever it was Road showed him, and leave him there.  
  
It would be interesting to see what happened when the boy awakened.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Alma was in a meadow, and it was warm.  
  
He recognized it – it was the meadow he always went to. The one on his family’s land, and that had always been a part of his home.   
  
The sun beat down, and its rays caressed Alma’s skin. He could feel the soft, tall grass sway in the air as they brushed against his legs soothingly. As always, the grass was a startlingly vibrant green, and the sky a brilliant blue that stretched on endlessly.  
  
Alma realized he was alone.  
  
There was no one else in the meadow – not a nymph, or any of his family. As Alma looked around, he could only see the meadow, with the edge of the forest just a bit a way’s behind him.  
  
_‘There’s no one around…’_ Alma thought, though the realization shouldn’t have been off-putting. Alma had come to the meadow plenty of times before on his own – he had never had a reason to feel odd about it.  
  
But, somewhere deep down, Alma felt unsettled. He didn’t know why.  
  
Alma tried to shake the sensation away, though it stubbornly clung to his bones. There was a strange chill that Alma couldn’t explain, almost as though something were coiling about his flesh. It was like an invisible serpent was encircling him, slithering over his arms and around his legs, slowing enveloping him like a predator entangling its prey.  
  
A shiver rippled throughout Alma. _‘No…it’s nothing,’_ he tried to tell himself, despite the way his heart thudded in his chest nervously. _‘There’s…nothing else here…it’s just the meadow…’_  
  
There was a rustle, and Alma turned behind him. When he looked, he could see what appeared to be a white lotus flower in full bloom. Unlike the grass around it, it did not sway amongst the breeze, and in its pure, sparkling white petals stood out glaringly.  
  
As Alma stared at the lotus, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach – one that made him nauseous with unease. _‘That flower…’  
  
_Alma didn’t understand what it was. All of the sudden, he felt as though his heart was being squeezed; it was like some terrible, cold feeling had washed over him, as he stared at that single, lonely little flower. t remained there, completely motionless – completely _harmless_ – yet it loomed like a promise of something terrible. Of something that Alma couldn’t recall.  
  
It was only a flower, and for some reason, it terrified Alma.  
  
Alma blinked, as he tried to move. However, his body felt frozen – though whether it was from his own unease, or something else, Alma couldn’t tell. His heartbeat only seemed to quicken, as he looked back over to where to lotus was-  
  
When he did, the lotus had started to bleed red. Dark, inky burgundy seeped into its petals, eliminating any traces of white – just before the flower began to crumble to ash, with the soil crumbling apart around it.  
  
Alma froze, as his heart stopped. His breathing felt shallow, as he watched the ground collapse; sharp stones and heavy rock rippled through the grass, ripping it apart like torn velvet as something could be seen breaking the ground from the inside out. Long, black appendages could be seen pushing through, before Alma could see them tendril outward toward where he was.  
  
Alma panicked, and turned to run.  
  
He didn’t get far – not before he felt something cold and slick wrap around his ankle. He fell, just as something grabbed his arm, yanking him back farther.  
  
“Someone-!” Alma started to shout, before he was cut off. Something had clasped over his mouth, preventing him from shouting. He tried regardless, as Alma attempted to remove whatever it was with his one free hand – however, it was sticky, and the tentacle refused to remove itself.  
  
Another tentacle managed to grab Alma’s remaining free hand, as the rest started to cover him, pinning him to the ground. He struggled, his muffled screams attempting to escape from his lungs; but, no matter how hard Alma tried, he couldn’t escape the cold, icy tentacles. He couldn’t move, and they were covering him _everywhere_…  
  
Alma couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. And soon, he wouldn’t be able to _see_…  
  
Eyes watering, Alma caught one final glimpse of the sky before everything went black.  
_  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma gasped as his eyes opened wide. His pulse thudded in his ears, with his chest tight and his breaths shallow. Beads of cold sweat had collected onto his skin, clinging to his flesh like icy crystals, causing the fabric of his clothing to stick to his skin uncomfortably.  
  
Breathe. Alma tried to breathe, as he strained to regulate his breaths, his hands balling into a fist; as they did so, Alma could feel his fingers wrap into something soft, and silky-  
  
Alma stilled. His breaths were still struggling to even out, and he could feel his shoulders trembling slightly. _'Where…’_  
  
He blinked, as his vision focused more. The nightmare had left Alma feeling disoriented and unfocused, with his mind not properly taking in his surroundings. He was drawing a blank as he stared upward, with his hands desperately clinging to the silk fabric below him.  
  
Sheets.   
  
It took Alma a moment to register this, but soon he could feel himself becoming more aware of his surroundings. The softness of the mattress below his body was the first thing he noticed; it was firm enough to be comfortable, but the thickness of the comforter provided a cushion. Alma realized it would have had to have been stuffed with feathers – not like the simple, linen blankets that he had at home.  
  
Pushing himself up, Alma looked around warily. The bed he had been placed in was a large one: a four-poster canopy, with dark, ebony wood that almost looked as though it had a red undertone to it. The curtains were pulled back, which too were an inky burgundy that was almost black – and while the sheets were cream, the comforter and overlay of the bed was wine red.  
  
Alma shifted uncomfortably. The bed was large, and far too luxurious – even more so than what he had originally been given at the citadel in the Acropolis. He continued to glance around, completely lost as to where he even was; the room was nothing like anything he had ever been in. It was large and spacious, with dark stone walls and two tall windows, each with thick, heavy curtains pulled aside. From what Alma could see, it looked to be nighttime; several candles had been lit in the room though, and at the end he could see a spot for a fireplace.  
  
Uneasily, Alma pushed himself out of the bed. He shuddered as his bare feet touched the icy ground, and he realized that he had no idea what had happened to his shoes. Alma glanced around quickly before he noticed them on the ground, and slipped them on as he began to look around.  
  
Quickly, Alma realized that it wasn’t just a room he was in – it was some kind of a suite. There was one door he tried opening on the right side of the bed, but was somewhat startled to see that it led into a bathroom. It was a spacious one, with the floor dipping into what appeared to be a bathing pool. The water was crystal clear, and already heated; Alma could see the steam coming from it, as the scent of fragrant oils filled the air.  
  
Alma left the bathroom, as he looked around again. There was another door, though before going to it he walked around to the wall on the opposite side of the bed, where the windows were. The curtains had been drawn, but Alma tugged one back, as he peered outside. It was dark, and down below, Alma could see what appeared to be a hedge maze.  
  
Alma let the curtain fall back, as his unease continued to fester. He was growing more uncomfortable by the second; Alma had no idea where he was, and he was struggling to remember what had even happened. He remembered that he had been in the meadow. He had been there, and there had been…  
  
_…A lotus, with petals turning to blood and crumbling to ash….  
  
…The ground breaking apart, and collapsing into the earth like sand….  
  
…Tentacles sprouting from the darkness, and dragging Alma deep into the earth…  
  
_Like a slab of stone, the memories slammed into the forefront of Alma’s mind. They washed over him like a tidal wave, completely relentless in force and without abandon. He could practically feel the tentacles grabbing his limbs, and the rocky soil as it scraped against his body. He could feel himself trying to scream for Fou, and trying to dig his fingers into the soil to keep from getting _taken_…  
  
Alma couldn’t breathe.  
  
Breaths ragged, Alma brought his hands to his mouth. A nightmare. Alma had thought it had been a _nightmare_. He had _had _a nightmare – or had that just been his memories, distorting themselves as they replayed in his dreams? Alma didn’t know. He didn’t know what had happened, and he didn’t know where he was or _why_-  
  
There was a knock on the door, causing Alma to stiffen. He remained soundless, wide-eyed and paralyzed as the door opened, his heart banging against his ribcage loudly.  
  
When the door opened, Alma saw it was a girl.  
  
She was small, and young looking – almost like a doll. The girl was dressed in a plain dark dress and apron, though the style wasn’t like any chiton or draped attire that Alma had ever seen. She also kept her hair down, which was long and blonde, with blunt bangs cut across her face.  
  
When Alma looked, he could see that her left eye was bandaged. There were also two metal pieces coming out from the top of her head, which almost resembled metallic horns.  
  
Alma stared, unable to speak. His throat was dry, and he realized that he was holding his breath.  
  
The girl looked at Alma, a hint of surprise flickering in her one visible eye. “Oh, I wasn’t sure if you were awake,” she said, her voice strangely light and even melodic. “My masters sent me to check on you.”  
  
Alma stared, his bewilderment only festering. Swallowing, he forced himself to speak, though his voice threatened to tremble as he did so. “I…where am I?” he asked, his insides somersaulting anxiously. “I…I don’t know why I’m here-“  
  
The girl blinked. “You…don’t know where you are?” she asked, seeming a bit uncertain of how to take Alma’s confusion. However, she continued, though she remained wary. “Well…you’re in the Underworld. You accepted an invitation to stay here.”  
  
Alma froze, as all of his thoughts screeched to a halt.  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma thought, as he shook his head. No, he must have heard the girl wrong – he must have misunderstood. Alma couldn’t have heard her correctly – he _couldn’t_ have been in the Underworld.   
  
“No,” Alma said, as he shook his head. “No, I…I can’t be in the Underworld. I…I _can’t_.”  
  
It didn’t make sense. Alma was never even allowed to leave his own home; he was always to stay close to his parents, and safely concealed by the barrier encircling the land he had grown up on. Leaving had always been out of the question, and the _Underworld_…  
  
The Underworld wasn’t a place Alma was ever supposed to be. It wasn’t a place that he ever _wanted _to be.  
  
Once again, Alma could feel his breaths turning strained, as his heart rate increased. In the back of his mind, he could envision the tentacles that had gripped his limbs, trapping him and pinning him down before they dragged him somewhere. But it couldn’t have been the Underworld. _It __couldn’t have been the Underworld._  
  
The girl looked at Alma, before concern flickered across her expression. She began to speak. “Perhaps you should sit down-“  
  
“I have to go,” Alma said, as he tried to move past the girl to get to the door.  
  
Alarm filled the girl’s visible eye. “Wait, you can’t just leave-“ she began to say, as he caught Alma’s wrist.  
  
The touch startled Alma, so much that he yanked his hand back on impulse. Because of how swift the action had been, the girl staggered back a bit, catching herself against a chair to keep from falling.  
  
Alma whirled around. He felt a flash of guilt, but it was quickly eclipsed by the adrenaline that was beginning to flood his veins, and the unyielding urgency he felt to leave.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Alma apologized, as he backed to where the door was. “I can’t stay!”  
  
Alma hurried out of the room after that, not bothering to wait for the girl to say anything more. He had entered into a corridor that was dark, and only lit by torches, and on a whim, Alma began to run right. As he did, he could hear the girl shouting after him, but Alma ignored her as he ran faster.  
  
The Underworld. He wasn’t in the Underworld, he couldn’t have been in the _Underworld._  
  
Running, Alma tried to look for any signs of an exit. The corridor only seemed to extend onward into darkness, with the torches casting tall, imposing shadows up above. They danced back and forth tauntingly, as they loomed above Alma like cloaked figures of darkness, ominous and threatening.  
  
Alma tried to ignore them. He tried to focus on leaving. He _had_ to focus on leaving.  
  
Still running, Alma came to an area where the hall split into two ways. He made a swift left as he started to run down another corridor – this one just as dark, and just as endless.  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma kept telling himself, as he pushed himself to run faster. _‘No…!’_  
  
An exit. A door. There had to be a way out. There had to be a way to _leave_-  
  
Alma stopped, nearly tripping. He blinked, his pulse throbbing in his ears as he looked around. He was at the top of what appeared to be a grand staircase, which stretched down into what looked to be a main entrance hall. Immediately, Alma’s eyes landed on the front doors – both of which were unguarded, and barren.  
  
Hurriedly, Alma made his way down the staircase. He almost stumbled on the last few steps, but clumsily caught himself as he pushed forward, rushing to the doors. They were large, and heavy looking; Alma had to use all his strength to push just one open. It creaked loudly, as a breath of cold, frosty air gusted against Alma’s skin, and a shiver danced down Alma’s spine.  
  
Alma didn’t care, though. He didn’t care how cold it was.  
  
Alma didn’t even know where he was going. He didn’t know what direction to take, or how he would possibly get back home. These small bits of logic didn’t stop him; they didn’t stop the overwhelming fears that continued to suffocate him, and his desperation for something familiar.  
  
The meadow. His home. His _family_...  
  
Alma rushed outside, as he looked around. It was dark – too dark for his eyes to see clearly. Alma wasn’t used to being out in the dark, and could only see the hedge maze up above, just beyond what appeared to be a stone fountain.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma started running-  
  
He cried out, just as something caught his ankle. With a sudden force, his foot had been pulled back, causing Alma to collapse to the ground. He winced as he landed on his elbows, the hard stone scraping against his skin.   
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, as he tried to get up. However, he moved forward at the same time, causing his left ankle to once again jerk back. Again, Alma fell to the ground, with his head turning a bit so he could glance back.  
  
On his ankle, there was a band. It was a golden one, almost like a thick anklet; it hadn’t been on Alma when he had left the room though, and he had no idea how it had ended up on him.   
  
Still looking back, Alma tugged on his leg. As he did, the band glowed, with the sound of an invisible chain being pulled.  
  
Shock filled Alma’s eyes, as his heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach. He felt sick, as his panic began to spike once more. His eyes swiftly scanned the area before he spotted a rock nearby, and without a second thought Alma snatched it.  
  
Immediately, Alma began to hit at the anklet. As soon as he did, it sparked, but the band refused to come off. This only spurned Alma on more though, with his actions growing more and more desperate.  
  
“Get off,” Alma begged, words turning frantic as he continued to hit at the anklet. “Get _off_!”  
  
“Now, now,” a smooth voice spoke, causing Alma to still. “That’s not anyway to act in front of a host, is it?”  
  
Alma looked up. Standing there just at the front edge of the castle’s entrance was a man. He was tall, with dark umber skin and long hair that was slicked back at the front. He also wore sharply tailored clothing that looked familiar to Alma.  
  
A fraction of a second passed, before Alma recognized him: the Noah he had seen speaking to his mother at the Acropolis. _‘Sheril.’_  
  
Instinctively, Alma tried to push himself back, and away from the Noah. However, the anklet glowed, the invisible chain rattling as it once more prevented him from moving away.   
  
Sheril looked at Alma. There was a mild look of amusement in his eyes, as he watched Alma continuously struggle with the anklet. “You didn’t _really_ think we’d just let you run off, did you? You wouldn’t even know where to go.”  
  
There was a taunting edge to Sheril’s words, which grated against Alma’s nerves. He was already completely beside himself, and could barely contain his agitation as he broke. “Take it off of me!” he demanded.  
  
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Sheril said, as he knelt down to where Alma was. He smiled, though his eyes remained cold: they were like frosted embers, forged in a fire then kissed by winter, darkly unsettling and scathing all at once. “You agreed to come here. We sent an invitation, and you accepted it.”  
  
Alma stared. He was completely dumbfounded, if only because Sheril’s words held _no_ logic whatsoever. Alma didn’t have the slightest idea what Sheril was even talking about; he had been in a meadow, and then he had been _attacked_. He had been attacked, and he had been _taken_.  
  
Denial and confusion pooling inside of Alma, he shook his head. “No, that’s…that’s a mistake,” Alma said, his tone fracturing before he had barely gotten the words out. “I-I didn’t accept anything, and I’m not supposed to be here…!”  
  
Sheril raised an eyebrow. The amusement had not left his gaze, though it was melded into mild intrigue. “Oh?” he questioned. “You took that seed, and planted it, did you not? The flower it turned into was an invitation – when it took your blood, that meant you accepted the terms of it.”  
  
Alma’s body went rigid, as he stared at Sheri helplessly. Again, the denial was beginning to simmer inside Alma, before it began to boil like a pot of water that had been left over a fire for too long. But it wasn’t _possible_ – Alma hadn’t known the seed was anything more than just that. He hadn’t known it was from the Underworld, much less an _invitation_-  
  
“No – no, that’s a _mistake_!” Alma repeated, as he pushed the argument further. “I didn’t accept anything! _I need to go home_!”  
  
Sheril sighed. He stood, expression unimpressed. “You really are wasting your energy making such a scene out here,” he chided. “We already have your blood signature, and your consent to remain here until we decide otherwise.”  
  
Stunned, Alma fell silent. Sheril’s words, despite how smoothly they had been spoken, had been jarring; they had been a slap across the face, sharp and blunt with Alma not even knowing how to process them.   
  
Shakily Alma took a breath. “I didn’t consent to anything,” he said, once more denying ever agreeing to such a thing. “I didn’t consent to coming _here_ – I want to leave!”  
  
Now, Sheril was beginning to look annoyed. Alma’s denial had only continued to fester, with the boy refusing to accept any of what Sheril was saying – and to Sheril, such was grating. “I don’t exactly have the patience to repeat myself,” Sheril said, words cool. “It doesn’t matter if you want to leave now – you’ve agreed to be here, so here you will stay. There’s nothing that can be done about that.”  
  
Alma stilled. He appeared as though he had been struck across the face, eyes wide and posture looking as though he were ready to shrink away into nothing. In his mind, Sheril’s words echoed.  
  
_“You’ve agreed to be here, so here you will stay.”_  
  
Sheril exhaled, as he turned to walk back into the castle. “Do yourself a favor and come back inside now. There’s no need for you to wallow out here like some petulant child, less you want to embarrass yourself further.”  
  
Alma looked up, as he saw Sheril start back toward the castle. Alma swallowed, as he took a breath; his legs felt heavy and like liquid, but he forced himself to stand. But, Alma didn’t take a single step, and shakily spoke. “I’m not going.”  
  
Sheril stopped walking. He turned around, eyes sharp as his gaze met Alma’s – almost like a serpent that had caught the gaze of some unsuspecting little mouse.  
  
Alma froze, as he felt his insides squirm uneasily. He didn’t like Sheril’s eyes or how intensely the Noah was looking at him. It was a frightening thing, with every warning and whisper Alma had ever heard about the Noah playing in the back of his mind. But, Alma forced himself to speak once more, as he tried desperately to stand his ground. “I’m…I’m not going back inside. I don’t want to.”  
  
Sheril didn’t say anything. He only stared, his very gaze more petrifying than even that of a basilisk. The Noah was terrifyingly still, too; there was not a trace of movement that Alma could detect, nor any sign of life that breathed from the Noah.  
  
Finally, Sheril smiled.  
  
“Really?” Sheril asked, the words pouring like satin and velvet. “Perhaps you only need to be persuaded.”  
  
There was a growl. It was low, and just behind Alma; his heart nearly stopped as the sound reached his ears, and a tremor rippled throughout Alma’s body as he turned, completely startled by the sound.  
  
Alma’s stomach dropped as soon as he looked.  
  
Yellow eyes. That was the first thing he noticed: ugly, yellow cat eyes that pierced through the darkness like a blazing fire. As Alma looked, he could see just what the beast was: a large, black panther, with its back low and its haunches crouched. Gutturally, it continued to growl as its tail swished back at fourth.  
  
“Lulu Bell,” Sheril spoke, addressing the panther. “Would you please see that our guest makes it back to his room? He’s being a bit…hesitant.”  
  
Alma turned back to Sheril, mouth agape. He didn’t get a chance to argue though, as he heard another growl from the panther, which Alma whirled back around in alarm.  
  
Again, the panther’s eyes met Alma’s, locking him into place. It then began to prowl forward.  
  
Instinct flaring, Alma turned and ran.  
  
He could hear the panther behind him, snarling and snapping its jaw as it came after him. Hurriedly, Alma ran back into the castle, nearly falling as he tried to rush back up the staircase. He didn’t dare to look back, with his heart slamming against his ribs so forcefully that Alma feared it would burst; however, the sound of the panther’s growls was all he needed to keep moving, as he desperately reached the top of the stairs.  
  
“Stay away from me!” Alma shouted, as he threw his hand back toward where the panther was. Suddenly, several vines broke through the stone floor, cracking apart slabs as tendrils sprouted upward. They swirled, like thick emerald serpents as a few spiraled upward, working to act as a blockade.  
  
Alma didn’t stop running. He could hear the panther’s angry snarls, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the creature caught up to him – he didn’t know how long the vines would hold up, and somewhere in the distance behind him, he could hear the panther tearing through something.  
  
Alma ran faster, as he rushed down a corridor. Like before, it was darker – darker than before, even. The torches seemed dimmer making it difficult for Alma to tell where he was going, and the shadows loomed above as they obscured his sight. With dread, Alma realized that he didn’t even know if he _was_ going in the right direction. He could only run, with his legs burning as he pushed himself to move faster.  
  
Darkness. He was running into _darkness_-  
  
Approaching a corner, Alma stopped. He glanced down both halls, expression panicked as he tried to remember which way he had come from. However, Alma couldn’t think; his thoughts were beginning to mesh together in a frenzy, and his pulse was thundering loudly in his ears. He wasn’t safe, and he didn’t know which direction to even _go in_.  
  
A snarl could be heard down the hall, and fearfully, Alma dashed down one of the corridors, with several more vines sprouting at the intersection, breaking through the floor as they began to mount upward.  
  
Running. Alma had to keep running, he had to find somewhere _safe-_  
  
The growls of the panther echoed in Alma’s ears, though he no longer knew how close it was. He lungs were by this point burning, and he felt dizzy – almost as though he would collapse at any given second. Everything was suddenly too heavy, and too much; Alma couldn’t think straight, and he couldn’t _breathe._  
  
_“You agreed to come here.”_  
  
No. No, Alma had _never_ agreed to come to this place. He had never agreed to_ any_ of this-  
  
_“We sent an invitation, and you accepted it.”_  
  
A lie. It was a lie – a _trick_. The Noah couldn’t be trusted. Alma had always heard this – it was what his parents had taught them. They were dangerous and self-serving; they only cared about their own kind, and wanted nothing to do but bring harm and death to the world, soiling all life and corrupting its very essence.  
  
They were lying. Alma hadn’t agreed to stay – _he hadn’t agreed to stay._  
  
Another snarl snapped, and Alma felt something break inside. Vision blurring Alma whirled around, as he once again threw his arm across the hall, using every ounce of force he held. “I said _stay away from me!_”  
  
There was a loud rumble, as the stone amongst the floor rippled. Viciously, a large vine burst from below – this one a thick bramble with sharp thorns piercing outward. It whipped against the wall, cracking loudly before it swung right in front of the panther, just as another bramble exploded from the other side of the hall as well.  
  
The panther hissed, snarling as both brambles whipped down. Alma hadn’t looked to see what happened next though, as he had already started running, fleeing the area before he could even note the damage that had been done.  
  
Again, Alma could feel his lungs burning; his breaths were uneven as he ran, and his feet ached terribly. Even his head was beginning to pound, as a searing pain seemed to course throughout his whole being; Alma couldn’t stop though. He couldn’t stop running, not until he found-  
  
_‘There!’_ Alma realized, as he saw a door up ahead. It was cracked, but Alma caught sight of the room inside, and the tiny hint of where it was he had awoken. Quickly, Alma pushed the door aside, but not before he whirled back around and slammed it shut. Immediately, vines and brambles began to coil in and out of the lock, as they spread, stretching upward so that the door was beginning to grow covered.  
  
Alma exhaled, as he took a step back. The brambles were still growing, as they continued to blanket the door, and even parts of the wall. However, Alma could only stare, horror-stricken as the reality of the situation began to settle in.  
  
He was trapped.  
  
_‘No,’ _Alma thought, as the denial once more began to push itself full force on to Alma. He shook his head, as he pressed his hands over his ears, almost as though he thought he would be able to somehow drown out the reality of it all. _‘No, no, _no_…!’_  
  
He clasped at his ears more tightly, as his eyes burned. Alma’s whole body was beginning to shake though, his legs finally giving out below him. Weakly, he sank down to the ground, with his back against the bed as he crouched down, his body curling up tightly.   
  
_‘No,’_ Alma continued to repeat to himself, as moisture welled in his eyes. _‘No…!’_  
  
Distress overtaking him, Alma could no longer ignore the truth. He could no longer ignore the fact that he had somehow been taken from his home, and brought to the Underworld. Alone. Isolated. Alma didn’t even have a way to call for help, let alone the ability to _leave…_  
  
Alma glanced down at his ankle. On it, the golden band had remained. _'I can’t…’_  
  
Alma couldn’t call for help. Alma couldn’t even go _outside_…  
  
Like a flood, all of Alma’s emotions crashed down in that instance. They washed over him without abandon, encircling him like a storm that refused to lift. Heavily, Alma exhaled, as his lungs strained to function, breaths spilling erratically and tears welling in his eyes.  
  
A sob escaped Alma, as he wrapped his arms around himself. The action brought little comfort though, even as Alma buried his face in his knees, as though he were desperate to disappear from it all.  
  
But Alma couldn’t disappear. He could only stay there, trapped and alone, as the brambles continued to spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we enter the part of this fic where it’s a lot of angst, and a lot of pain. >.>
> 
> This chapter more so covers the arrival, and the initial “shock” that Alma experiences. That alone was a lot to write, especially with how shattering the experience is to him. I’ve noted this before, but because Alma has been so sheltered he has /zero/ coping skills; he hasn’t been taught how to deal with harsher experiences, let alone abduction (which, to be fair, would //anyone// be able to deal with that? I’d flip for sure, like there’s trauma for the rest of your life all wrapped and ready to go). 
> 
> Naturally, this proves to be really problematic and even dangerous considering that Alma’s powers in this AU are tied to his emotions. So you can likely guess how the next chapter will go.
> 
> Which! I’ll be bringing in Tyki next chapter, and we’ll finally start to get some more interaction between him and Alma. There’s /technically/ some in this chapter, but because Alma’s unconscious, I don’t exactly count it. XD
> 
> Also, I just really want to give a shout out to KittyBandit, because ajdklajsd FIRST OFF IT IS HER BIRTHDAY SOOO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY. <3 But really, thank you since you’ve especially been so supportive with me working on this story in particular, and have encouraged me to keep at it with my Tyki x Alma rare pair. I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for your encouragement, this may have never happened - so it means a lot! <3 
> 
> With next week being Thanksgiving week, I’ll have some time off for work. I’m planning on possibly updating twice (once on Monday, and once on Thursday/Friday). If I don’t, then there will for sure be an update on Thursday.
> 
> Please feel free to leave any comments as always! ^^


	11. Of Thorns and Brambles

Alma was gone when Edgar returned home.  
  
He had already known this – he had known this, because Fou had found him, frantic and beside herself. It had been unsettling to see; Fou was always composed, always focused. She wasn’t one to lose her senses. She wasn’t one to leave their home unattended.  
  
So when Fou came, Edgar had known that something was wrong. He could see it in her eyes, and he could feel it in the air about her. He could feel it, even on some greater, intuitive level.  
  
Somehow, this was not able to prepare Edgar for what Fou had told him aloud.  
  
The words had trickled in, dripping through his mind like a distant echo. In a sense, it had felt like a dream: surreal, and nonsensical. The words just hadn’t _registered_ to Edgar. Because after all, he and Twi had been careful; they had been diligent in their caution, and always done well to make sure their home was safe.  
  
Yet, the words spilled out, and they cut into Edgar like a razor.  
  
_“Alma’s gone….something took him…”  
  
“I tried to stop it….”  
  
“He’s gone, Edgar….”  
  
_The words had seeped in, but they had felt like ice. Cold. Sharp. Edgar hadn’t even known how to react other than _shock_. The words had just been….  
  
He couldn’t believe it. And somehow, he already knew it to be true.  
  
Despite this, it hadn’t really sunk in until Edgar had returned home. It hadn’t sunk in until Fou showed him just where the ground had opened up to swallow Alma whole, dragging him into the darkness and away from the light.   
  
It hadn’t sunk in until Edgar saw the scorch marks on the earth, and the remnants of dark matter lingering in the soil.  
  
Edgar stared at the spot. He wasn’t sure how long for, but he stared, with a blank look on his face. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Edgar fought the urge to imagine what had actually happened, and what horror had transcended in the meadow. What monster had taken his son.  
  
He stared, and he couldn’t look away.  
  
Fou was with him. She had accompanied Edgar to the spot in the meadow, face drawn and eyes worn. Fou didn’t utter a word as she remained there with Edgar, standing quietly as he observed the spot, never once daring to address him. Maybe, because she knew it was partly her fault. Maybe, because Fou had been the one to leave Alma alone.  
  
If Edgar thought any of this, he didn’t give any indication of it.   
  
Suddenly, Edgar spoke. “I’m going to the Acropolis,” he said, words rushed. “Please keep an eye on things here until I come back.”  
  
Fou nodded, throat dry. She didn’t say anything, and only watched as Edgar hurried off.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma didn’t know how long he had been in that room for.  
  
There was a clock, but Alma hadn’t looked at it. Not for long, at least. He had tried to, but he couldn’t think straight. He only saw numbers that blurred together through a watery gaze, and heard the distant echo of a tick that was overpowered by his own, wordless cries. It was pitiful, and pathetic – Alma had completely collapsed, not knowing how to process any of what had happened. He didn’t know where to start.  
  
He didn’t understand _why_.  
  
That was the one thing he hadn’t thought to ask Sheril. Alma hadn’t thought to ask why he had been sent an invitation to the Underworld. He certainly couldn’t fathom a reason; Alma had never interacted with the Noah, save for that one fleeting interaction at the Acropolis. He had never even left his home before just a few days before. He hadn’t _done anything_.   
  
Yet, the Noah had brought him to the Underworld. And Alma had no idea why.  
  
The reality once more shook him, as a tremor shuddered throughout Alma’s body. A shallow, half-formed gasp broke from his lungs, as some sad, weakened sob attempted to spill forward.   
  
Alma hated it. He _hated _being there. He didn’t want to be in the Underworld, where it was dark and encompassed by death. He didn’t want to be trapped, and he didn’t want to be in that _room_.  
  
There was a crack, as several more vines layered themselves over the door. Thorny brambles continuously spread over the wall, protectively continuing to cover the area so that no one could get in. But like the clock, Alma hadn’t even paid attention to the brambles – his mind was in a complete meltdown, as he remained seated on the floor and against the bed, curled up and desperately wishing to be anywhere but that terrible place.  
  
_‘I can’t…’_ Alma began to think, as he chewed the inside f his cheek. _‘I want to leave! I want to _leave_!’_  
  
The cries were silent, and they were desperate. It was as though Alma’s very heart was crying out, screaming and begging for something to be done – for _anything_ to be done. But, there was no one to respond, and Alma was met with silence. Fou, the nymphs…  
  
His family.  
  
Alma’s eyes burned. His family. His _parents_. Would they realize where he was? Would Fou have known, and been able to tell them? Surely they wouldn’t stand for this – surely they would _do_ something…  
  
Alma balled his fist, as his insides churned. He thought of all of the times his parents had warned him of the Noah, and how protective they had always been. It had been to the extent that Alma had started to grow frustrated and feel confined, but now…now, he understood. He understood why they had been overprotective.  
  
Alma should have known better. He should have never taken that seed. He should have never asked Fou to leave him.  
  
He should have been more careful.  
  
Like a tumultuous summer storm, a heavy weight of guilt crashed over Alma. He hadn’t meant to accept any invitation, but he had. He had, and now he was trapped.   
  
Alma was trapped, and he had no idea how he would ever get out.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Ugh, I _can’t take it anymore_!”  
  
Sheril looked over. He was seated at a long, rectangular table, though he was not alone. Tyki and Road were present, both being a bit a way’s down, with Road coloring a picture and Tyki watching. In another seat, Lulu Bell was curled up, back in a small cat form and sleeping soundly, and across the table were two more individuals – two teenagers who looked to be twins, though one had black hair, and the other blonde. Both were dressed in leather attire, with the blonde childishly throwing coloring pencils at the dark-haired twin.  
  
Road looked up from her drawing. Her eyes shifted over, as they landed on the individual who had spoken out: a young man with platinum-colored hair, which was tied back with a black and white bandana. Like the rest of the Noah, he too had umber-colored skin, with toxically golden eyes that stood out starkly.   
  
But what was most unusual about this young man was his forehead – which contained a golden third eye upon it.  
  
“Aw, what’s wrong, Wisely?” Road asked, words tauntingly sweet. “You can come color with us if you want.”  
  
Wisely huffed, as he threw his hands onto the table. “No, I want that boy you all brought here to be _quiet_!” he exclaimed, completely beside himself. “Do you have any idea how _loud_ he is? I can’t think straight! My head is going to explode!”  
  
The blonde twin looked up from across the table, completely lost. “Huh? I can’t hear anyone…” he said, before he looked over at the dark-haired twin. “Devit, can you hear anything?”  
  
Devit snickered. “No – it’s all in Wisely’s head, Jasdero. You know how he’s always hearing voices.”  
  
Jasdero grinned, more amused by the thought than anyone else seemed to be as a flurry of uncontrollable laughter escaped his lips.  
  
Wisely glared at the twins, only further put off by their behavior. He thus turned his attention to Sheril, eyes heated.   
  
“Can’t you do _something_? He’s _wailing_!” Wisely expressed, as he gripped his forehead. “In his head – he won’t stop screaming! Do you have any idea how horrible that is to listen to? I’ll have a migraine for _days_!”  
  
Sheril pressed his fingers against the side of his head, as he closed his eyes. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to hear Wisely’s complaining; he could be incredibly vocal when he wanted to be. This alone was almost enough to push Sheril to try to do something. “He is being rather destructive…that whole hall will take an unthinkable amount of time to clean.”  
  
“No one can even get _in there_ – he’s practically turned it into a greenhouse!” Wisely clipped, as he threw his hand about.  
  
Tyki laughed at this, earning him a scathing look from Wisely. “You’re telling me that _Flower Boy_ is actually causing that much trouble? He looked pretty harmless when I met him,” Tyki said, as he recalled the stammering mess he had interacted with back at the Acropolis. There had hardly been anything threatening about the boy, and it was admittedly somewhat difficult for Tyki to imagine him causing such a stir. “I’d have figured he’d calm down by now…”  
  
“Well, he _hasn’t_,” Wisely stated. “He’s still holed away, sprouting plants everywhere, silently screaming, and making _me _miserable!”  
  
Road looked up, as she put a coloring pencil down. There was a glint in her eyes that bordered along mischievous, and a tiny, impish smile pulled at her lips. “Tyki could do something about it,” she suggested sweetly. “He could move past those vines with no problem.”  
  
Tyki looked back at Road. The suggestion had taken him somewhat by surprise, particularly since Tyki wasn’t sure what she meant by Tyki _doing_ something about the situation. He wasn’t exactly keen on dealing with temper tantrums, let alone whatever one it was that Flower Boy was throwing.  
  
Leaning back in his chair, Tyki folded his arms. “Who says I’d want to do that?” he asked, though Tyki didn’t give and outright _no_. “If he’s being as much as a pain as everyone is saying, then maybe I don’t want to deal with him.”  
  
“Aw, come on Tyki,” Road pouted. “Do it for Wisely – just look at him.”  
  
Tyki’s eyes wandered back to Wisely. By this point, the platinum-haired Noah had placed his head onto the table, desperately covering his scalp with his hands as a pitiful groan escaped him.  
  
Tyki turned back to Road, and looked at her somewhat questioningly. “Why don’t _you_ do it? I know you’d have no problem getting in there.”  
  
Road shrugged, and held up her half-colored drawing. “I’m not finished yet – don’t want to break my focus,” she said, as she smiled at Tyki adoringly.   
  
Tyki’s expression turned dubious.   
  
Sheril exhaled loftily. “Tyki, just go up there and do something. Use a tease if you have to,” Sheril requested smoothly. “Unless you want us all to be subjected to Wisely’s complaining…”  
  
Hearing this, Wisely only groaned more loudly, sound muffled and face still down on the table.  
  
Tyki shrugged, as he pushed his chair back to stand up. “Sure, I’ll do it,” He finally agreed, tone nonchalant. “Maybe it’ll be fun. Who knows?”  
  
Road smiled over at Tyki. “I’ll have a drawing ready for you when you come back,” she offered. “Try not to be too long.”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “I doubt I will be,” he said, as he walked off.  
  
As Tyki exited the room, he could hear Devit say something and Jasdero cackle with laughter. It was but mere white noise to Tyki though, as his thoughts began to drift afar. Specifically, they drifted to Flower Boy; the young deity had admittedly not left a strong impression in Tyki’s mind, with Tyki not having given Flower Boy a second thought since they met at the Acropolis. He had become nothing but another face filed away into the recess of Tyki’s memory, easy to forget and insignificant.   
  
Yet, here he was – plucked from somewhere high above, and brought down into the Underworld.   
  
Tyki supposed it was a good plan. Bring the Changs’ youngest son down into the darkness, and bait their compliance into removing the barriers. They were apparently oddly protective of Flower Boy, and thinking back, Tyki could remember their other son – _Bak_, or whatever his name was – swooping in to pull Alma away when Tyki so much as glanced at him. Granted, Tyki wasn’t sure what the situation was with that; he thought it a bit odd that Flower Boy had been there at the Acropolis, but not at the meeting with the rest of his family.  
  
No matter – Flower Boy was there now, and apparently, Tyki now had the pleasure of dealing with him.  
  
He approached the wing where Flower Boy was staying: the east part of the castle, where a large amount of spare guest rooms remained. As Tyki started down another corridor, he could see where part of the ground was cracked, with what appeared to be some sort of thick vine having burst from the ground. However, as Tyki passed it, he could see it was dry and dead.  
  
Tyki paused, as he looked at the mess. A slight frown appeared on his face, before he continued on.  
  
The single vine and crack were not the only damage that Tyki crossed paths with. As he moved down the corridor, he came across more broken stone and rubble. There were two more vines – large, thorny brambles – that emerged from the ground and walls, which curled across Tyki’s path. Tyki didn’t pay them as much attention though, and tried to walk onward-  
  
There was the sound of something heavy slithering through the rubble, and Tyki’s eyes grew alert. He saw a flash of movement before pulling back quickly, just as one of the brambles swung down in front of him, thorns scraping against the stone floor and scratching loudly as the vine dragged itself back.  
  
Tyki watched. Both vines curled up, looming like two serpents ready to strike. Intrigue glinted in Tyki’s eyes, as his lips tugged upward.  
  
So, _this_ was what Wisely and Road had been referring to.  
  
Again, Tyki began to walk on. He was completely calm and relaxed, hands shoved into his pockets as he could hear the brambles slither back as they prepared to strike. Out of his peripheral vision, Tyki could see the thorny vines begin to swing down.  
  
Tyki only continued walking, as the brambles passed right through his body.  
  
He heard them crash down behind him, but Tyki didn’t bother to look back. The half-smile remained on his face. _'__Too easy.’_  
  
Admittedly, Tyki was a little impressed. He hadn’t realized that Flower Boy was capable of producing such a violent defense, but it certainly made Tyki curious as to what else he didn’t yet know about the deity.  
  
Tyki wouldn’t have to wait long to learn more though. Within another moment or so, he could see that he was approaching where Flower Boy was staying. Of course, the hallway was drastically altered; vines and brambles were beginning to cover the walls, with their roots spreading across the ground and further damaging parts of the corridor. It was truly a disastrous alteration. Tyki could only imagine how displeased the head of the Noah, Lord Millennium, would be – especially when he realized how their guest had desecrated the whole hallway with tree roots and brambles.  
  
Sighing, Tyki approached the door before he placed a hand on his hip. The door was where the vines were the most concentrated, as they nearly covered it completely. It sent a clear message, too: that Flower Boy _definitely_ didn’t want any visitors.  
  
It was a shame for Flower Boy that Tyki didn’t care about what he wanted.  
  
If anything, the sight only caused Tyki’s amusement to grow. After all, did Flower Boy _really_ think a few vines could keep the Noah out forever? It was their home – _their_ territory. Flower Boy could throw all of the tantrums he wanted, but it wouldn’t change that he didn’t get to control the situation. The Noah did.  
  
If the boy had to learn that the hard way, then Tyki had no aversions to that.  
  
Humming softly, Tyki took a step closer to the door. He debated knocking.  
  
Tyki did no such thing, and eyed the door for only a second before stepping through, phasing through the vines and the wood like some kind of ghost.  
  
He melted through the solid material, as he walked into the room. “Knock, knock-“ Tyki began to say.  
  
There was a crack of wood, and the sound of something heavy being thrown through the air. Tyki only caught a glimpse of something being hurled at him before his reflexes kicked in, with him dodging out of the way. Just as he did, a chair crashed against the door, the wood of the furniture piece splintering apart as it fell to the ground in shambles.  
  
Tyki stared, somewhat dumbfounded by the unanticipated attack. It had come not any longer than a second after he had entered into the room, and Tyki already could feel himself scanning the room swiftly.  
  
His attention landed on Flower Boy almost immediately.  
  
Lips curling, Tyki smiled. “Well,” he started to say. “That wasn’t a very nice way to greet someone, was it?”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He had stood up, backed against the side of the bed and body tense. His eyes were wide, like some deer trapped by a hunter’s gaze, and his skin was a shade paler than what Tyki remembered it being. Near him, there were several thick vines curling around – one of which Tyki was convinced had thrown the chair.  
  
Tyki watched, as he noted Alma’s silence. “What, you’re not even going to apologize? I mean, that _was_ pretty rude-“  
  
Tyki cut off, as one of the vines curled to take a vase from the nightstand, before it chucked it toward the Noah. Again, Tyki moved as a reflex a small curse escaping his lips. The vase hit the wall just behind Tyki, as it shattered to pieces.  
  
As Tyki recovered, Alma stared. However, as he did so, something inside seemed to break, with his eyes suddenly burning heatedly. There was an uncharacteristically _volatile_ glare in his eyes, before he seemed to snap all together.  
  
“Get out,” Alma said, as he raised his voice. “Get _out_!”  
  
The vines shifted, with one of the brambles coming down like a whip. It struck down just in front of Tyki, more so as a warning than an attack, but Tyki could already see one of the vines curling back, looking as though it were readying itself to strike.  
  
Despite the circumstances, Tyki could only smirk. This whole excursion already had turned out to be more excitement than he had planned for, though he knew he would have to get a handle on the situation. It was bad enough that the whole corridor had nearly been destroyed, and if Tyki didn’t do something soon, the room would share the same fate as well.  
  
“Keep swinging those vines all you want – they won’t get you out of here,” Tyki stated, not even concerned about any of Alma’s possible attacks. “You’re only going to wear yourself out.”  
  
Alma looked a bit caught off guard by how calmly Tyki spoke, but in a blink of an eye, he reacted. “I don’t care – I want you to leave!” Alma shouted, before two of the brambles moved, as they whipped down to strike at Tyki.  
  
Tyki didn’t move, and allowed the vines to strike down – and they passed through his body, as though he were not actually there.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as he backed up a few steps. However, he found himself quickly pressing back against the nightstand, causing himself to stagger.  
  
The vines faltered a bit, and Tyki took his chance. Before the vines could strike again, Tyki moved quickly – so much that he almost appeared to disappear for a second.   
  
Alma looked up. He had just managed to compose himself, moving away from the nightstand and back against the wall – but the minute he allowed his gaze to rise, he felt someone pin him back by the wrists, his shoulders hitting against the cold stone of the wall behind him.  
  
Alma gasped, as he was suddenly brought face-to-face with a shocking pair of molten colored irises. His whole body went rigid, almost as though he had been petrified– almost as if he had stared into the eyes of a gorgon, and mistakenly turned himself to stone. Loudly, Alma could hear his heart pounding in his chest as his breath remained hitched in his lungs.  
  
Tyki stared, his eyes boring into Alma’s. He didn’t once look away, not even to blink; his eyes remained unyielding as he stared into Alma’s wide, sky-colored eyes – which Tyki could now see were rimmed with red, and slightly puffy.  
  
The detail was small, and Tyki chose to ignore it.  
  
Still gripping Alma’s wrists, Tyki spoke. “Now, as _exciting_ as this rendezvous is, I’m technically supposed to be doing something about the little stunt you’re pulling with all those vines,” he said, words languid and even. “My family isn’t too pleased with how you’re acting, and the head of our family_ certainly_ won’t be happy to know you’ve nearly destroyed a whole hallway.”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to speak. No words came out though, and he clamped his lips shut. Shakily, he exhaled before finally breaking eye contact with Tyki, as his eyes moved to the vines just behind the Noah.  
  
Before Alma could manipulate them, he felt his head spin, and his knees threaten to buckle beneath his own weight.  
  
Alma’s body nearly collapsed, but Tyki’s grasp held him in place. The Noah didn’t miss the way Alma almost lost his balance, and still gripping Alma’s wrists, Tyki looked at Alma closely. Once again, Tyki could see how pale Alma looked, and the weariness in his features. Tyki had initially taken it to be from the shock of awakening in the Underworld, but gradually, something clicked.  
  
Slowly, a smirk formed on Tyki’s lips. “You’ve never used your powers to this extent, have you?”  
  
Alma looked back at Tyki. The volatile fire that had burned in his eyes just moments before already appeared to be diminishing, causing Alma to look far less like a threat and more vulnerable with each passing second - almost like a child coming down from a full-fledged meltdown, completely depleted and on the brink of tears.  
  
The silence was all Tyki needed to confirm his theory. It was that, and the pitifully defeated look in Alma’s expression – one that could have only meant Alma _knew_ he was at his limit. Keeping his grip firm on Alma’s wrists, he spoke up once more, words slithering out coolly.   
  
“Why don’t you do yourself a favor, and call off your little plants and thorns? You know we’ll never let you go – not until _we_ want to,” Tyki emphasized coolly. “Otherwise you’ll just burn yourself out with nothing to show for, and then what? You can’t leave, and all you’re doing is destroying the nice room we gave you.”  
  
Alma once again remained wordless. He did little else other than look back at Tyki, completely helpless as the weight of Tyki’s words began to press upon him.   
  
A shaky, trembling breath escaped Alma. His eyes were glassy, and he looked as though he were only mere seconds from breaking right there. “Why,” Alma began to ask, just as his voice threatened to crack. “Why are you _doing _this…?”  
  
Tyki continued to pin Alma, his grip just firm enough to keep him in place. However, Tyki found himself eying Alma a bit longer than necessary, as he noted the way Alma looked just then: eyes tired and pleading, with enough desperation in his eyes to look just _piteous_. Even Tyki couldn’t deny the sight was truly a miserable one.  
  
Tyki sighed. “It’s nothing personal,” he offered, before realizing such a statement was technically untrue. “Well, actually it _is _pretty personal. Your family has caused us a bit a grief, so we figured they’d be a bit more…_compliant _with you here.”  
  
Alma looked at Tyki, completely lost. “What-?”  
  
The rest of his words caught in his throat. Tyki had released one of Alma’s wrists, just as his fingers caressed the tip of Alma’s chin. Somewhat stunned, Alma could only stare as his eyes were once more forced to meeting Tyki’s; his insides knotting up, and his heartbeat racing.  
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze, as he observed Alma carefully. “You really are looking kind of pale,” he commented, smirking slightly. “Call it a day and lie down – or are you going to be stubborn, and push yourself to exhaustion with keeping those vines out?”  
  
Alma remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say – he didn’t know what he _could _say. Deep down, Alma knew that he was at a loss. He couldn’t keep up the energy to continue fighting, and as Tyki had theorized, Alma had never pushed himself _this_ far. He had never had to. Alma had never had to defend himself like this before.  
  
Alma had never felt this defeated before.  
  
A heavy weight crashing down, Alma could feel his eyes burn. His vision blurred, as he could feel the defeat caress his body, with the vines beginning to pull back into the walls and into the floors. Even the door was beginning to reveal itself, with the brambles pulling back and slowly disappearing from sight.  
  
Tyki let go of Alma, and almost immediately, Alma collapsed to his knees. He gasped, his lungs suddenly straining for air as he realized how exhausted he felt, his muscles aching and his head once more spinning. Alma felt dizzy, and he felt _tired_ – almost as if he could have fallen asleep right then and there.  
  
Tyki watched Alma for a moment, as he witnessed the deity accept his fate. Realizing that his job was essentially done, Tyki spoke up. “We’ll have someone come up here to help clean up the mess you made,” he said. “Don’t be rude and lock them out.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he remained crumpled on the ground. His face was downcast, with several tears beginning to silently streak down his cheeks.  
  
Tyki paused, just before he was about to exit the room. He turned back to where Alma was, and in seeing his despondent state Tyki felt something in himself harden.   
  
“If I were you, I’d avoid causing any more trouble,” Tyki warned, words a chill cooler than before. “Next time you try anything, you won’t get off as easily.”  
  
Alma looked up, face wet and eyes red. However, Tyki was already leaving as he phased through the door without a second glance.  
  
As soon as he was alone, Alma felt himself break. He hadn’t thought he had any more tears in him, but they came nevertheless, with the weight of Tyki’s words lingering in Alma’s ears.  
  
Trapped. Alma was still trapped, and it didn’t matter how hard he fought. It didn’t matter how much he kicked and screamed, and how hard he tried to escape.  
  
The Noah wouldn’t bend, and they wouldn’t let him leave.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Tyki walked back down the hallway, the brambles had already lost their life.  
  
They didn’t move, and they didn’t attack – not like before, at least. They remained shriveled and curled onto the ground, like withered snakeskin that had been discarded without a second thought. Tyki couldn’t even feel a trace of life from their corpses, which now appeared ghostly in the darkness.   
  
Truthfully, it was difficult to think that Flower Boy had been the one to create them.  
  
Tyki walked over, and tapped one of the deadened brambles with the toe of his shoe. Almost instantly, it crumbled to dust.  
  
A small frown appeared on Tyki’s face, as he watched the vines wither away.   
  
“Tyyyyki.”  
  
Tyki looked up. He could see Road down the hall, skipping toward him as though she didn’t harbor a care in the world. Her steps were light and playful, yet there was something looming about her: a nudge of something sharp, like a small silver blade wrapped in silk. Something laced up, and hidden beneath a frill.  
  
Road stopped, just as she came to where the vine had crumbled away, the dust and debris now piled onto the ground. She gently swung her leg, kicking into the dust as he hummed. “What happened to the brambles?” she chirped. “I thought they’d be less…dead.”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “They’re dead now,” he said, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Flower Boy’s finally starting to calm down, so there shouldn’t be too many other problems…”  
  
Road looked up. Her smile shifted into more of a smirk, as her eyes glinted in the darkness. “Wisely will be happy,” she said, before eying Tyki carefully. “But you almost sound disappointed.”  
  
Tyki laughed. “Disappointed I won’t get attacked with furniture again? No, I think I’m good,” he said, though there was almost what seemed to be a hint of amusement in his words.   
  
“Oh, he was ruining the furniture? Sheril will have a heart attack,” Road commented, as she feigned concern in her words.   
  
Tyki didn’t comment on the subject further, as he looked at Road curiously. “You hear anything yet from the Order?” he asked, as his gaze threatened to wander behind him, back toward where Alma’s room was. “It’s bee a full day. Figured his family would notice he’s gone already with how protective they are…”  
  
Road hummed again thoughtfully. “Not yet,” she answered, as she put her hands behind her back. She rolled onto the back of her heels, as she smiled at Tyki sweetly. “But I’m sure we’ll hear from them soon.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, but he imagined that “soon” would be approaching swiftly. While Tyki himself hadn’t interacted with the Chang family much, he could recall the few he had seen during the meeting at the Acropolis. Direct. Precise. Twi Chang in particular didn’t seem like she was a person to be trifled with, and Tyki could only imagine the explosive reaction she’d have to learning one of her sons were missing.   
  
Well…missing, _and_ trapped in the Underworld.  
  
Seeing how oddly quiet Tyki was, Road tugged on his wrist. She lovingly placed her cheek against his arm, as she tugged him along. “I finished a drawing for you,” she said. “Want to see?”  
  
Turning back to Road, Tyki smiled back at her. “Sure,” he said, as he allowed Road to tug him along.   
  
Road beamed, as he continued to pull Tyki down the hall, a playful bounce in her step and an eerie tenderness in how she clasped at Tyki’s arm. Tyki didn’t mind, though; Road was always affectionate in this way, and he was used to it.   
  
Within mere seconds, the debris and damaged hallway was left behind them, and any traces of Flower Boy were gone from Tyki’s mind.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Bak stared, somewhat startled.   
  
He couldn’t have heard correctly. Bak was simply tired; the day had been long, with his hours being consumed by plans to re-solidify the barrier and old texts of spells and enchantments. It had been_ tedious_ – Bak had not had a moment of rest, and had been in the constant company of his mother, grandfather, and those who led the Order.   
  
Needless to say, Bak was exhausted. And he clearly wasn’t hearing things correctly.  
  
Bak rubbed the back of his neck, as an uncomfortable itch pinched at his flesh. He cleared his throat. “Uh…what?” he asked, the words the farthest thing from eloquent that Bak could have spoken.  
  
Wong looked at Bak. His expression was somewhat severe, and his eyes grave. “Your father,” he repeated, words low. “He…just arrived at the main gates of the citadel. He’s asked to see you and the rest of your family immediately.”  
  
Bak remained silent, as he took in the words. He…honestly was shocked. Bak’s father wasn’t supposed to be at the Acropolis; Edgar was supposed to be back among the mortal realm, keeping a watchful eye on the humans and their crops until Twi returned. Leaving was something that Edgar wouldn’t just _do_ either – he was responsible, and diligent. He would never leave a job unattended.  
  
Bak also knew that neither of his parents would ever leave Alma alone either.  
  
Inside, Bak could feel something coil up tightly. He didn’t understand what was happening, or why his father had so unexpectedly shown up at the Acropolis, but something wasn’t right. Something didn’t _feel_ right.  
  
Bak took a small breath, and glanced back into the meeting hall. He had been in there with Twi, Zuu, Lvellier, and Renee – all to discuss a few final adjustments that would be made regarding the barrier. Bak had been the one to step out when Wong had showed up, though now, Bak found he was at a loss; he wasn’t sure how to interrupt the current meeting going on to explain that his father was present.  
  
Glancing back at Wong, Bak nodded. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll tell them now.”  
  
Wong nodded, as he watched Bak return inside.  
  
In the meeting hall, Renee was currently speaking. She was going over something regarding the barrier, but Bak was hardly able to take in her words, his own thoughts beginning to spin himself into numbness.   
  
Soon, Renee’s words died though, and Bak realized that everyone’s attention had turned to him. Zuu in particular looked a bit concerned, as he eyed Bak carefully. “Is everything alright?”  
  
Bak hesitated. He could feel the intensity of everyone’s gazes, as they awaited an answer. Bak glimpsed around at them all, and he only fleeting noticed a somewhat disapproving look shared by Lvellier and Renee, before he returned his attention more so to his mother and grandfather.  
  
“It’s Father,” Bak finally said, as he strained to keep his voice steady. “He’s…here now. At the citadel.”  
  
There was shock that silently passed over the group, with Twi in particular looking more caught off guard that normal. Her normally composed features shifted, as something flashed in her eyes – something that Bak found strange, and difficult to describe.  
  
Lvellier was the first to speak up, breaking the silence. “I thought your husband was to stay among the mortal realm?” he asked, directing his words at Twi specifically. “Is there a reason he would come here in such a manner?”  
  
Twi turned, as she swiftly regained her composure. She looked at Lvellier coolly, before she spoke. “I will ask him. Excuse me.”  
  
She didn’t wait for Lvellier to comment further before briskly walking off, as she departed from the meeting hall. Somewhat stunned, Bak followed her, as he hurried to catch up with his mother outside the meeting hall.  
  
“Mother,” Bak called, just as he exited into the corridor. Wong was still there, waiting patiently, and Twi stopped just as Bak caught up to where she was.  
  
“Mother, do you know why Father is here?” Bak asked, as he met her gaze.  
  
Twi didn’t answer. Her expression had become unreadable, like a carefully constructed mask of porcelain. “Bak, wait here with your grandfather,” she ordered. “I won’t be long.”  
  
Bak frowned. While he wasn’t one to disobey his parents, he found it difficult to do as his mother requested, with something unpleasant repeatedly nagging in the back of his mind.   
  
“I think I should go with you,” Bak insisted. He could quickly see his mother’s face turning into one of disapproval, and swiftly added, “Mother, _please_ – at least let me go with you to see Father. Something doesn’t feel right.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything. Her eyes were sharp, and her lips pulled into a small frown. Bak actually thought that she would refuse, and push Bak to remain at the meeting hall – but then to his surprise, she said otherwise.  
  
“Very well,” Twi agreed.  
  
Bak exhaled. He didn’t say anything more, as he and his mother walked to where Wong was, who up until this point had said nothing. Wong glanced between Twi and Bak, before he turned.  
  
“This way,” Wong said, as he began to lead them along.  
  
They all walked in silence. No one dared to fill the air with meaningless chatter, as an uneasy tension lingered. Bak especially felt uncomfortable; he still did not have the slightest inkling as to what was going on, but he hadn’t lied when he told his mother that something didn’t feel right. Something just…  
  
_‘Something’s wrong,’_ Bak thought, as he tried to put things together. The last few days had already been strange. There had been the akuma appearances, and then the request for his mother to come to the Acropolis. Then, there had been Alma – Alma who had been sent back, as soon as the Noah had appeared.  
  
A series of events, seemingly unrelated. Yet they played together like a reel in Bak’s head.  
  
After what felt like too long, Wong finally stopped walking. He had led Twi and Bak to the main entrance hall of the citadel, where several figures could be seen up ahead.  
  
Edgar was one of them.   
  
Wong stepped aside, allowing for Twi and Bak to approach where Edgar was. He was standing with two other guards, with a himation wrapped around his body; his body looked worn though, and his eyes tired. More tired than Edgar’s eyes ever looked.  
  
In fact, he looked exhausted.  
  
Bak noticed immediately. It was a glaring detail; his father was never one to let stress wear on him easily, but Edgar looked as though he had aged several years since the last time Bak had seen him. There were circles under his eyes, too, almost as though Edgar had had all of the energy sucked from him dry.  
  
The sight was unsettling.   
  
Bak was not alone in his observation, as Twi too took note of Edgar’s unkempt appearance. She frowned, though the expression was more of festering concern than anything else. “Edgar, what is it?” Twi asked, getting directly to the point. Then, as she realized something she posed another question, this one more urgent. “Where is Alma? Is he with Fou?”  
  
Edgar didn’t say anything. He stared back at Twi, as he struggled to form a response – something which on its own was unnerving. Edgar didn’t usually have difficulty speaking.  
  
This only caused Twi to grow more agitated, her worry beginning to spiral already. “Edgar, _what happened_?”  
  
Edgar took a breath. He looked as though he were attempting to muster the ability to speak, but something was preventing him from doing so – almost as though something were causing his throat to lock up, thus keeping a response from slipping forward.  
  
Bak looked at Edgar. “Father…?”  
  
Edgar finally exhaled, as he closed his eyes. He took one more moment before he opened them, as he looked at Twi directly. As Edgar did so, there was as uncharacteristically grave look in his eyes, and his words were heavy.  
  
“Alma,” Edgar tried to manage. “He was…something happened-“  
  
Twi about lost her composure there, as she pressed with a newfound urgency. “What happened?” she questioned, as something inside started to break apart uneasily. “Edgar, _where is Alma_?”  
  
Bak stared, as he waited for his father to answer. But there was only silence, and Bak could feel his insides turn to ice.  
  
Edgar looked back at Twi. He almost looked as though he were at a loss, and as though he couldn’t say anymore. He almost looked as though he couldn’t speak the words aloud.  
  
But, Edgar did. He spoke, with the words coming out painfully – as though he were pushing knives upward and through his esophagus.  
  
“Alma…was taken,” Edgar finally managed, as he met Twi’s gaze. “He was taken to the Underworld.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of struggled with editing this chapter for some reason (I don’t know why - my brain decided to stop working), but hopefully it wasn’t too much of a mess. 
> 
> A lot happens though. There’s the fact that Edgar finally learns that Alma’s been taking, and that was a difficult scene. Honestly, I just couldn’t see him...being frantic //immediately//. I felt like there’d be a huge level of shock for him, sort of like the kind you experience when anything traumatic happens. It’s almost like a slow ticking bomb starts inside, as things begin to set in, and then /bam/. You break - which will happen later on, with both him and Twi. 
> 
> Then, there’s everything else going on in the Underworld. I definitely wanted to get Alma and Tyki interacting more, and Tyki being volunteered to deal with Alma because he could walk through any defenses made enough sense to me. But really, this is what starts that initial intrigue Tyki has; he doesn’t think much or expect much from Alma, which causes him to be a bit caught off guard when Alma starts hurling crap at him and putting up a fight. If anything, it’s probably one of the first times Tyki has had any actual entertainment in a while, though of course, he still has to deal with Alma and get him to stop.
> 
> Speaking of, I was so, so, so satisfied writing Alma just wrecking shit. XD I always knew he had it in him, so it was fun to finally get some of those explosive emotions hashed out; he’s definitely broken and distraught, but by no means was just about to let the Noah lock him away quietly. Alma’s much more capable of destruction than even he realizes.
> 
> The next chapter after this is more transitional, so it won’t be quite as exciting, but things will definitely be picking up again soon. ;3
> 
> Happy (early) Thanksgiving to all those in the US!


	12. A Clasp of Desperation

When Alma woke up, his head was pounding.  
  
It was horrible. Alma couldn’t think straight, with the insides of his skull throbbing violently. It was almost as though something were hammering at his scalp from the inside out, making it nearly impossible for Alma to think. He couldn’t think about where he was, or what had even happened; all he knew, was that his head hurt and that he was _tired_.  
  
He was so tired.  
  
Alma clutched at his ears, as another throb pulsated through his head. He rolled over as his face buried itself into the pillow, pressing down into the plush texture. The comforter was thick and soft beneath his body, and Alma found himself curling his up as he desperately attempted to gain some sort of peace.  
  
Eyes shut tightly, Alma pushed himself further into the sheets, the fabric silky against his skin.  
  
He remained still for an indistinguishable amount of time. Maybe it had only been a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours; the pounding in Alma’s head made it difficult to tell just how much time had passed. His whole mind felt like a fog, and his body ached terribly. He wanted to sleep, but couldn’t even find it in himself to slip away into unconsciousness – he was too uncomfortable, with something stirring inside him uneasily.  
  
After what felt like a long time, the pounding in Alma’s head began to dull. It was still hard to focus, but Alma shifted, as he soon found himself daring to open his eyes. His vision blurred, and his eyelids felt somewhat stuck together; the corners were crusted with dried tears, and as Alma reached up to rub them, he realized they were a bit swollen.  
  
_‘Where…?’_ Alma began to think as he forced himself to sit up. He had to do so slowly, as his equilibrium felt off. Alma managed though, and his eyes slowly began to look about the room.  
  
A room that was not his own.  
  
There was a slight delay, and for a moment, Alma wanted to panic. The room wasn’t familiar, and the canopy bed wasn’t his. The air was _cold_, too, and outside it looked dark-  
  
Alma’s thoughts drew to a halt.  
  
The room. The halls. Alma remembered fleeing in a panic, as he attempted to escape outside. He remembered being caught by Sheril, and then chased back into the room by some kind of large, cat-like creature. He remembered barricading himself in that room, completely terrified of what was happening, and another Noah – _Tyki_ – coming to stop him. To threaten him.  
  
To remind him that he couldn’t leave, no matter how badly he wanted to.  
  
_“You know we’ll never let you go – not until _we_ want to.”_  
  
Alma’s insides lurched, and he quickly covered his hand over his mouth. He buckled over, as a wave of nausea overcame him; it was so sudden and so strong that Alma was almost certain he was about to lose his stomach right there. His other hand gripping one of the bedposts, Alma tried to steady himself.  
  
Fortunately, the nausea passed. Alma still felt shaky though, as the memories continued to flood him. In a way, none of it felt real; it felt like some wretched, nightmarish dream that Alma was only trapped in. However, he knew it was more than that, despite the haze that overshadowed his memories. The room he was in was too real, and the air too stagnant. The outside world was too dark, and he was alone.  
  
_‘I’m…I’m really trapped here…’_ Alma realized, as a sinking, hollow feeling filled the pit of his chest.  
  
A shallow breath escaped Alma, as he clutched at the bed post with both of his hands. He glanced around the room, as his eyes wandered to the clock – which read that it was just a little after ten.   
  
Alma looked outside. It was just as dark as when he last looked out the window, and he realized that he couldn’t tell if it was nighttime or morning.   
  
_‘It’s…so dark…’_ Alma thought, as he shifted uncomfortably. Was it always so dark? Alma shivered, as he remembered what Allen had said at the Acropolis: that it was always dark in the Underworld. That the sun never reached that deep into the earth.  
  
The thought made Alma squirm. Being in a place with no _sun_…  
  
There was a gentle knock at the door, and Alma felt his heart leap into his throat. He stared, face pallid and eyes wide as he felt his heart begin to palpitate in his chest nervously.  
  
The door opened, and Alma didn’t breathe. He held his breath, as a flood of anxiety filled him, with the memories of his previous encounters with the Noah burning his memory. _‘Please….please go away….’_  
  
“Hello?”  
  
Alma stared. He was a bit startled to see that who had entered the room wasn’t a Noah, but the blonde girl with the covered eye that he had first seen when he had awoken in the Underworld.  
  
The girl looked at Alma. Her expression was wary, as she took note of the state Alma was in. “I’m sorry…did I wake you?” she asked, her words almost cautionary in their softness. In her hand, she also was carrying a broom and dustpan.   
  
Alma shook his head. His throat was dry, and no words would come out.  
  
The girl still remained somewhat reserved, but nodded. “Good,” she said, as she looked as though she were gradually becoming a bit more at ease. “You were asleep for a while, so I wanted to wait before coming in to clean up.”  
  
Alma blinked. He at first wasn’t sure what the girl meant, until his eyes landed on the wall beside the door. On the ground, was a splintered chair, and not too far away was a shattered vase. Too quickly, Alma found himself recalling those to be the things that _he_ had broken.   
  
Guiltily, Alma rubbed his arm. “Um…I can help-“ he began to offer, feeling terribly awkward about having made such a mess.  
  
The girl shook her head, as she already began to move. “It’s my job,” she stated, as she began to sweep up were the shattered vase was. The glass chunks clattered, but the girl moved swiftly. Soon, she had already cleaned up the broken vase, before stepping outside for a moment to dispose of the pieces.  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He watched as the girl returned, and again felt the need to at least offer to help. Although he had used a vine to throw the chair, he imagined it was heavy, and the girl was _small_. Alma didn’t want her to try to clean it up on her own.   
  
Alma shifted, as he made a move to get off of the bed. “Really, I can-“  
  
The girl lifted the broken chair without so much as a blink, and carried it outside with ease.  
  
Alma stared, somewhat taken by surprise. He hadn’t expected the girl to lift the wood so effortlessly, and did so almost as though she were picking up a mere feather. As she disappeared her outside, Alma could hear her shuffling around, before she walked back in – just as she was carrying a replacement chair.  
  
Without saying anything the girl walked over to where original chair had been beside the wall, and placed it down. She then turned to Alma, with her one good eye resting on him for a second, before she went to leave.  
  
“Ah, wait!” Alma started, causing the girl stop. She turned back to Alma, with a questioning looking in her gaze, and waited for Alma to continue.  
  
Alma swallowed, as he glanced at the clock. “I’m sorry, but…can you tell me what time it is?” he asked, feeling rather abashed for not even being certain of what should have been something obvious. “I…can’t tell if it’s morning or night. It’s still so dark outside…”  
  
The girl’s expression remained somewhat neutral. “It’s morning,” she answered. “You slept through the whole night – you were brought here yesterday afternoon.”  
  
Alma felt himself go still as the girl said this. Had…had he really already been in the Underworld for a whole _night_? To think about it seemed like such a long time, yet Alma couldn’t help but feel that the memories he had thus far were distant and in a haze. Alma had been so shocked, and so _upset_…he couldn’t even remember things all that clearly. Everything felt so distorted, with the whole experience being terrifyingly surreal.  
  
But, here he was. Still there. Still in that room.  
  
Faintly, Alma rubbed at his left ankle. He could still feel the golden band clasped around it, which was glass smooth and cold to the touch. _‘It’s still on me…’_  
  
The girl watched Alma carefully, as something fleeting flashed in her eye. “There is a bathing room, if you’d like to clean up,” she suggested. “But if you don’t like the oils available, I can bring you different ones.”  
  
Alma shook his head. He didn’t quite understand why he’d even _have_ the choice of such a luxury – not when he was essentially being trapped somewhere. But, Alma knew he probably should have cleaned up, or at the very least, washed his face; his skin felt grimy, and he didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he must have looked awful.  
  
Despite this, Alma couldn’t say he otherwise felt any more motivated to do so.  
  
The girl continued to look at Alma, and for a moment, she almost looked sympathetic. “I’ll return in a bit to check on you,” she stated, before nodding over to the nightstand. “If you need anything, you can tap that crystal there. Then I’ll know to come sooner.”  
  
Alma looked over, as he spied the crystal that the girl was referring to. It was maybe the size of Alma’s fist – clear, like an orb of quartz. It didn’t look particularly extraordinary, but there was something strangely pretty about it. However, the thought of using it to “call” someone in the Underworld seemed…odd to Alma.  
  
“I think I’ll be okay,” Alma said, his words sounding somewhat uncertain.  
  
The girl nodded, and she didn’t press any further. She took a final glance at Alma before speaking. “When I come back, I’ll be sure to bring some food-“  
  
Alma went rigid, as soon as the words were spoken.  
  
“No!” Alma urged, as the girl looked back somewhat startled. Realizing how peculiar he must have sounded, Alma tried to speak a bit more calmly, though the attempt was strained. “That’s…that’s fine. I don’t need anything to eat or drink. Really.”  
  
The girl blinked, and she looked at Alma warily. Truthfully, she didn’t appear to believe him, but the girl didn’t make any attempt to persuade Alma, and nodded.  
  
“Very well…” she said. “Let me know if you change her mind.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, and the girl left after that. As the door shut behind her, he realized that he had neglected to ask for her name.  
  
Alma didn’t bother to try calling after her, and instead, his attention moved to the clock on the wall. It was now close to half past ten, though to Alma the time didn’t feel right. It simultaneously felt as though he had been in that room for far too long, while also feeling as though he had just only woken up there. But, he had been there for a full _night_…  
  
Did his family know where he was?  
  
Alma felt his heart drop. His family would be worried – Alma had never even left home before venturing to the Acropolis for that short time with his mother, and he didn’t have any idea how to contact them. But they would surely find out, wouldn’t they? They would find out, and they would do something. They wouldn’t let Alma be kept in the Underworld. _‘They wouldn’t…’_  
  
A small tremor rippled through Alma’s body, and he gripped at the sheets on the bed, as his eyes once more shifted toward the clock.  
  
A little longer. Alma just needed to hang on a little longer, and surely someone would come find him.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Twi didn’t sleep all night.  
  
She couldn’t. She was too awake. She was too _alert_. She had been, ever since Edgar had come to the Acropolis. Ever since she had been told that Alma was gone. Twi hadn’t been able to focus. She hadn’t been able to _think_.  
  
_“Alma…was taken.”_  
  
Taken. Alma had been taken – he had been taken from their very own _home_. He had been snatched away, and dragged into the earth the second that no one had been looking. He had been _abducted_-  
  
_“He was taken to the Underworld.”  
  
_How? How could this have _happened_? They had always been so careful with Alma – they had always been so _cautious_. All of those years of making sure their home was encircled by protective barriers, and that Alma never strayed. All of those years of making sure that someone was always close, and that Alma never wandered too far off. Alma wasn’t like Bak was; there was a hidden fragility that had always frightened Twi. It had always frightened Twi to think about what could happen in the wrong situation, and what could happen to _Alma_.  
  
She had always been cautious, yet he had still been taken.  
  
Twi’s heart wouldn’t start pumping, and her blood was hot. She couldn’t even sit down at this point; she could only pace in agitation, with her patience running thin.   
  
Edgar looked up at her. Unlike his wife, he had taken a seat on the edge of a divan – though he hardly looked anymore at ease. Edgar was tired, with worry rimming beneath his eyes and his shoulders slumped. He exhaled softly. “Twi, you should at least sit down-“  
  
“I can’t _sit down_,” Twi snapped, the words flying from her mouth more harshly than what was necessary. “The Noah _took_ him, Edgar, and we are being told to _wait here_? We can’t wait here – he’s in the _Underworld_!”  
  
Edgar rubbed his forehead. His exhaustion was apparent, but he attempted to keep his tone even regardless. “I know. I _know_ where he is…” Edgar said, as his weariness threatened to pull him down even farther. “But we can’t just go down there – there are _rules_ against that. We still don’t even know how it happened!”  
  
Twi stopped pacing. She looked back at Edgar, her eyes brimming with an array of emotions: anger, frustration, _loss_. Already, Twi could feel an ugly, bottomless cavity forming itself in her chest, though she wouldn’t dare acknowledge it. She couldn’t. She couldn’t acknowledge that hole and she _wouldn’t_.  
  
She exhaled, though her breaths were shallow, and uneven. Twi’s insides had been twisted into more knots than she could imagine for the last so many hours, with her heart twisting up every time she thought about Alma. About where he was. About how he was alone. Alma had never really liked to be alone, and he didn’t like the dark – and the Underworld was always dark. It was dark, and there were akuma, and he would be _frightened_-  
  
Silently, Twi found herself thinking back to that night eleven years ago. To that night when the akuma had attacked.  
  
Twi couldn’t stand it. She was going to lose her mind.   
  
Edgar stood up. It didn’t take long for him to realize that Twi was beginning to unravel, with every ounce of her composure beginning to disintegrate. He hurried over to, as he steadied her by the shoulders, his touch firm. “Twi-“  
  
“Why would they take him?” Twi asked, her words tumbling out. “What would they want with him? Alma’s-“  
  
Her voice unexpectedly cracked – something that was unusual even to Edgar’s ears. Twi wasn’t someone who often got emotional, so much that others would often say she was frigid. Yet here she was, beginning to crumble, with even her strength depleting as Edgar held onto her.  
  
Edgar kept his grip on her shoulders firm. He could feel his emotions beginning to pour over, but was desperate to reign them in – it was already bad enough that Twi was beside herself, and one of them needed to stay calm. “Twi, the Order is doing what they can. They’ve sent something to the Noah and will be demanding information about Alma’s whereabouts,” Edgar reassured her. “We can’t go ourselves, but the Order _will_ find out where he is – even the Noah won’t be able to ignore such a command. They’re imprisoned and still have to adhere to the Order.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything, but she tried to breathe. She tried to calm herself, though the success was null; nothing could ease the tremor in her shoulders, or the cavity in her chest that threatened to swallow her whole. Nothing could quell her fears.  
  
“What if the Noah know?” Twi finally asked, the words quiet. She looked at Edgar, her gaze forlorn. “What if they know about what happened?”  
  
Edgar stilled. He didn’t need anymore detail, and knew what Twi was speaking of immediately. Quickly, Edgar shook his head. “No – no, they wouldn’t. There’s no way that they _could _know,” he reassured, though now it was too late, and the seed of fear had been planted into Edgar’s own heart. “We took care of that – even now, there’s no way anyone could tell-“  
  
There was a knock, which caused Edgar to cut off. He and Twi both turned as the door opened, revealing Zuu and Bak.  
  
“Anything?” Edgar asked.  
  
Zuu sighed. “The Order is still waiting to hear anything – if we don’t hear back by tomorrow morning, they will look into sending the marked deity to go look into it.”  
  
“Tomorrow _morning_?” Twi questioned, completely appalled at the timeframe. “That’s too long – Alma can’t stay there another night! Someone needs to find him now!”  
  
“Twi, this is the most the Order will do for now. We _have_ to proceed with caution,” Zuu advised. “If the Noah have Alma, then we best adhere to protocols – which means we can’t send anyone there without having sent a correspondence first. We can’t risk enraging them when we don’t know the circumstances.”  
  
Twi clamped her mouth shut, and she took in a sharp breath through her nose. Logically, she knew her father was right – but right now, Twi wasn’t being governed by logic. She was able to – not when her youngest _child_ was missing.  
  
She just couldn’t handle it.  
  
Zuu remained quiet, as his attention shifted between Edgar and Twi. “What have you two taught Alma about the Underworld?” he asked, tone severe. “Does Alma know its laws?”  
  
Both Edgar and Twi remained silent, and Edgar exchanged a somewhat uneasy glance with Twi. “We’ve told him a few things,” Edgar explained. “But…I…I don’t even know. He knows some of its basic laws, but…”  
  
A heavy sigh escaped Zuu. “I see…”  
  
Twi still remained quiet, as her insides once more knotted up tightly. Rules. Laws. Some things Alma had been told, but she knew it hadn’t been enough – she knew that despite the effort she had put into protecting Alma, that nothing would have prepared him for this.  
  
Nothing would have prepared him, and nothing could protect him. Not anymore.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Sherillll,” Road sang, as she leaned back in her chair. Her legs swung back and forth, as her feet dangled daintily above the ground. “What are you going to tell the Order?”  
  
Tyki looked over. He was not seated at the table where Road and Sheril were, having taken to standing right beside the window. A cigarette was placed between his lips, the tip of it slowly transitioning into ash. Taking the cigarette with his fingers, Tyki tapped it, being careful so that the ash fell into the small tray on the windowsill.   
  
This was mostly due to Sheril nagging him to do such. Otherwise, Tyki wouldn’t have cared. The windowsill was stone, anyways.  
  
Before Sheril could answer, Wisely spoke up. He was seated across from Road, with his chin resting in the palm of his hand. “He’s going to tell the Order what he told us he would – that the annoying boy accepted an invitation, and we have his blood signature,” Wisely answered with an annoyed sigh. “Though I’m sure the Order will _still_ pester us over this – and all because of that brat we’re keeping…”  
  
Road tilted her head, as she looked at Wisely with an impish smile. “Aw, are you still cranky after what our guest put you through? I thought he had quieted down quite a bit since being here.”  
  
Wisely huffed quietly. “Hardly. That headache is _just now_ starting to fade, and just because he’s quiet now doesn’t mean he will be later on,” Wisely pointed out. “Really, I can’t believe what you all subject me to…”  
  
Tyki snorted, as he leaned against the wall. “I didn’t see you getting any furniture thrown at you.”  
  
Wisely’s face shot up, as he sent Tyki an irritable glare. “That’s because I at least have the decency to respect one’s _privacy_.”  
  
“Which is precisely why you’re always filing through other people’s heads,” Tyki noted, as he grinned over at the other Noah. “Or am I mistaken?”  
  
To this, Wisely visibly bristled. However, he appeared too flustered to form an adequate response, and could only huff at Tyki from afar.  
  
Boring of the current conversation, Road once again returned her attention to Sheril. “So,” she started to say. “How soon do you think it’ll be before they send Allen Walker? I’d love to see him.”  
  
Sheril’s expression shifted, as a mild look of disgust lined his features. “The Order will likely do something soon – I suspect our written response won’t be enough for them,” he stated. “The Changs will doubtlessly push for the boy to be returned, and once they do, we’ll make our stance.”  
  
Road grinned, as her eyes brimmed with excitement. “How fun. I can’t wait to see how that unfolds,” she said, as she twirled a short lock of her hair. “And you just sent the response?”  
  
Sheril nodded. “Give it another day or so, and we should hear something soon.”  
  
Tyki glanced back at Sheril. Although he didn’t always care for politics, he certainly _was_ rather intrigued as to how this whole scenario would play out. Technically, the Order would not be able to do much – not when they had Flower Boy’s blood signature. By law, that bound the boy into a willing arrangement, and the Order could not rightfully intervene. And, if they did….  
  
The results would be unpleasant.  
  
Tyki brought the cigarette back to his lips, as he took another drag. It was almost evening, with the whole day having passed in something of a blur. Aside from the damage in the hall near where Flower Boy had been placed, it had been easy to forget he was there. After the fit the boy had thrown the previous night, he seemed to have otherwise calmed down, keeping hidden away in his room and out of sight. Tyki supposed it was a good thing – it would be easier to keep track of Flower Boy if he stayed in one place.  
  
_‘Not that he’d get too far…’_ Tyki mused, as he exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes wandering to look outside the window. Down below, the hedge maze remained, like a thousand serpents slithering beside one another.  
  
Wisely’s eyes flickered over to Tyki. A small frown remained on his face, though he said nothing.  
  
There was a knock on the door – a small, meek sound that held the strength of a whisper. The door then cracked open, as one of the servants came in. Blonde. One eye covered. The same servant who had been attending to the guest that the Noah were harboring – _Lala._  
  
Sheril’s eyes landed on the girl, his gaze somewhat expectant. “Well?”  
  
Lala shifted a bit uncomfortably, as her one good eye flickered downward. Then, she dared to meet Sheril’s gaze. “He won’t eat anything,” she finally said, words soft. “He refused to have any food this morning, and I tried to bring him dinner just now – but he won’t touch it.”  
  
Sheril exhaled, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ugh. He acts as though we’re trying to poison him.”  
  
Wisely raised an eyebrow, as he looked at Sheril questioningly. “Well, it would trap him here permanently…he clearly doesn’t want that. I didn’t have to dig through his thoughts to put _that_ together,” he clipped, before he looked at Sheril curiously. “Yet you want that to happen, don’t you?”  
  
“It’s an insurance policy,” Sheril quipped. “Though it’ll prove problematic if he actually starves himself…we need him alive or his family will be less inclined to cooperate.”  
  
Road hummed. “Just let him starve – he’ll break sooner or later.”  
  
Sheril sighed, and returned his attention to Lala. “Try again in the morning. I can’t imagine he’ll last much longer without at least drinking something.”  
  
Lala nodded. There was a bit of hesitancy to her motions, and her gaze flickered around the room briefly. Lala didn’t linger though, and quickly left the room.  
  
Tyki tapped his cigarette onto the ashtray, before he turned back to where the rest of his family was. “Are you so sure that Flower boy will cave that easily? If he’s already been tipped off about the food, I doubt he’ll touch it,” he mused. “I mean, he _was_ a bit of a handful last night, what with how stubborn he was acting.”  
  
Road smirked, as her eyes gleamed in amusement. “Were the vines too much for you after all?”  
  
“Not for me. Maybe the hallway,” Tyki stated, before he pressed the cigarette into the ashtray, putting it out entirely. “Just not so sure if he won’t get a second wind and start stirring shit up again.”  
  
“Give him a few days, and he’ll be more compliant,” Sheril said, tone somewhat dismissive. “Besides – this will only give us more leverage for negotiating with the Order.”  
  
Tyki remained quiet. He hadn’t missed the hint of disgust in Sheril’s voice at the mention of the Order, and understood well enough just what Sheril intended. After all, the Changs more than likely _would_ be more inclined to…bend, if say Flower Boy was permanently attached to the Underworld An effective move, no doubt, even if rather low.  
  
Despite this, Tyki found himself thinking to the previous night, and about the desperation that Flower Boy had exhibited. The denial. The resistance. He had crumbled, but only because he had pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion. To the brink of collapse.  
  
Truthfully, a part of Tyki wondered just how far the boy would continue to push himself.  
  
Without saying anything, Tyki started to leave. As he did, Wisely’s eyes flickered up, with a small frown on his face. “Where are you off to?”  
  
Tyki turned back to Wisely, and smiled. “Don’t you know? I’d have thought you’d just poke in my head for the answer.”  
  
Wisely didn’t get a chance to respond, as Tyki left the room without another word.  
  
The hallway was dark, and dimly lit as always. Tyki walked swiftly, as he passed among the flickering torches like some ghostly apparition; his movements were simultaneously languid and swift, with a natural grace that was oddly eerie. In a way, he was nothing more than a shadow – a wisp of something inhuman, and frightening to behold.  
  
Tyki walked a bit farther, before he turned, phasing through a wall.   
  
The shortcut brought him to another area of the castle. It had a few more torches for lighting, with a narrow hall that connected to a few more rooms – namely the pantry, and the kitchen. Often, the few servants around could be located in this area, one of which Tyki needed to find.  
  
He had passed one door, before he got a glimpse of long blonde hair.  
  
Tyki smiled, as he walked into where the pantry was. Lala was there, putting a few things away. She evidently had not heard Tyki, which became only more apparent when the Noah crept up upon her with his words startling her with a jump.  
  
“I need you to do something for me,” Tyki said, as he leaned over so his face was close to her shoulder.  
  
Lala turned swiftly. There was a slightly tense, startled look in her expression, but she quickly wiped her face so that it was neutral.   
  
“What do you need me to do?” Lala asked, sounding a bit uncertain.  
  
Tyki straightened his posture, as he tilted his head to the side. “Let me know how Flower Boy is tomorrow,” Tyki said, words smooth. “It’s important we don’t let anything happen to him – not while he’s here.”  
  
Lala continued to look at Tyki warily, but nodded. “Yes, Lord Tyki.”  
  
Tyki grinned.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_‘Soon…someone will do something soon, right…?’_  
  
It was already nighttime. It was already nighttime, and Alma was still in that room.  
  
Alma shivered, as a chill rippled throughout his body. He was curled up on the bed, on his side as a shallow breath escaped him; his body had only worsened in its aching, with his head feeling both light and heavy. There was a repetitive throb in his head, which was only intensified with how _nauseous_ he felt. Alma’s insides were empty, with him not having eaten a single thing since the day before. The servant, Lala, had come again to try to bring Alma food. But…  
  
_“You can’t eat food from the Underworld without becoming linked to it. Which means you can’t ever leave.”_  
  
Alma had not forgotten Allen’s warning. It had flooded back into the forefront of Alma’s mind the moment Lala had initially offered Alma anything, and Alma had been quick to refuse. He couldn’t risk becoming tied to the Underworld – he couldn’t risk being trapped there permanently, with no hope of ever escaping.  
  
He couldn’t risk never seeing his family again.  
  
There was a pang in Alma’s stomach, and his throat burned. He was completely parched, with his mouth practically salivating at the thought of fresh water. It was almost enough to make him cave, and to beg – especially considering how recklessly Alma had depleted himself by using his powers. It was something that Alma now regretted, as using his abilities to such an extent had left him pathetically tired and weak.  
  
But, Alma couldn’t give in. He couldn’t accept any food or drink until he was out of the Underworld.  
  
_‘Soon…someone will do something soon, won’t they…?’_ Alma tried to tell himself, as he clutched at the bed sheets. His family. The Order. By now they would have realized that he was missing, so why had no one been able to do anything?   
  
A little longer. Alma just needed to hang on for a little bit longer, and surely someone would do something to make the Noah let him go. They would have to – Alma’s family wouldn’t allow him to remain there. They just _wouldn’t._  
  
Alma told himself this. He told himself this repeatedly, even as he slipped away into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe it’s December, but here we are. ;___;
> 
> This is a shorter chapter, so I wanted to go ahead and post it today (with the next update probably being Friday). It’s something of a transitional chapter, and it feels like more of a lull; if anything, it’s a bit of a breather since so much happened the last few chapters. (Don’t worry, though - next chapter we’re going to see more Alma and Tyki interaction, as things are going to start developing with them soon. ;3)
> 
> I’m pretty sure people realized that the servant character was Lala back in 10, but I was excited to write her a bit more in here. I actually ended up using her quite a bit in this story, which was fun - Lala was one of the first characters I fell in love with in DGM (ugh, and I was so sad she didn’t stick around as long >.<) and I was really glad to incorporate her into this story. She’s a bit more sympathetic to Alma too, which I liked; Alma gets hit so hard with how dark his situation becomes, that I wanted to give him someone else close by that could eventually be something of an ally.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, feel free to leave any comments or feedback. ;3


	13. Stolen, Starved, Soothed

_Alma couldn’t move.  
  
He looked up. It was dark, and he was in his room – his real room, back home. But, it was quiet, and it was cold. It was much colder than it ever normally was.  
  
Inside, Alma could feel his heart race. He was lying with his back on his bed, with the mattress firm and familiar beneath his body. However, Alma felt anything but at ease; his body was stiff, and he was paralyzed. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t even speak.  
  
He was scared.  
  
Alma didn’t know why. He shouldn’t have been afraid – not when he was in his own bedroom at home. There, it was safe. It had always been the safest place Alma had ever known – the _only_ place that Alma had ever known.  
  
_‘Why can’t I move?’_ Alma worried, as he tried to shift his body. His hands. His fingers. Everything was frozen stiff, with his body cemented down to the bed. Alma was just _stuck_, trapped down as though some invisible weight were pressing itself down upon him, pinning him by the wrists and compressing him by the chest.  
  
He was struggling to breathe.  
  
Alma’s insides lurched, as he instinctively tried to call out. Something was wrong, but he didn’t understand what. Every fiber in his being was screeching, almost as though some silent alarm had started to ring in his brain. Alma didn’t know how, but something didn’t feel right, and he needed to move.  
  
He needed to move, but he couldn’t.  
  
The air remained frosty, as it continued to drop in temperature. Alma exhaled in a tremor, with his breath forming in a small cloud of smoke. _‘Why is it so cold here…?’_  
  
Sleep. Maybe Alma should just try to sleep. It was nighttime after all, wasn’t it? Why else would it have been so dark in his bedroom?  
  
Alma tried to close his eyes. A wisp of unease continued to cling to his chest, making it difficult for Alma to will himself into a slumber. It didn’t matter how tightly he closed his eyes or hard he attempted to force himself to asleep – Alma was still awake, his insides crawling about in fear.  
  
_‘Stop it,’_ Alma told himself. _‘You’re home – you’re in your room. Stop acting like a _child_-‘_  
  
There was a _crash_, as the sound of glass shattering splintered through the air. Pieces from the glass panel on the window clattered to the floor like a thousand broken crystals, glinting in the darkness and razor sharp.   
  
Suddenly, Alma could move. Something about that sound had freed him, allowing for Alma to push himself up on the mattress as he tried to get up-  
  
He was immediately shoved back down, with his body once more pinned back onto the bed.  
  
Alma’s adrenaline pumped, as he stared upward with wide eyes. Something had come into his room – a swift, shadowy figure with indistinguishable features. Even now as Alma looked up at it, he realized he had no idea what it was; the details were blurred, with it looking like no more than the silhouette of some nightmarish fiend. Its body was large, and misshapen, with Alma not having the slightest idea what it could have been. But it was there, and it was looming over Alma…  
  
The silhouette moved, with what looked to be the outline of an arm coming close to Alma’s body. Alma’s heart thudded loudly in his chest as he watched, before he felt something cold and metallic brush against his cheek.  
  
A blade.  
  
Fear pooled throughout Alma’s veins, as he realized he didn’t know what this thing wanted with him. He didn’t know what it was, or why it was in his room, and he didn’t understand how it had gotten there…  
  
Somewhere in the distance, Alma thought he heard someone call his name. His parents.  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to scream before the silhouette raised its bladed hand, only to strike down where Alma was-  
  
_Alma shouted, as he thrashed against the bed. His eyes were shut tightly, and his limbs flailed about wildly; however, as Alma kicked and thrashed his arms, his limbs only swung into air. At the most, Alma was only tangling himself into the bed sheets more, which threatened to twist around him like a serpent’s coil.  
  
It was at this point that he started to wake up.  
  
His adrenaline still rushing, Alma opened his eyes. His vision blurred, as his thrashing came to a stop. A lost look appeared in his eyes, as Alma tried to twist himself out of the sheets, his heart pounding so heavily that the sensation was nearly painful.  
  
There was no silhouette. There was no formless entity pinning Alma to the bed. There was only Alma, completely distraught in a dark, lavish bedroom that wasn’t his own.  
  
Alma sat up. His breaths were still uneven, and his skin was coated with cold, sticky sweat. Alma’s head spun the moment he sat up though, and he immediately had to brace himself by pressing his weight onto his hands as he leaned a bit forward.   
  
A rapid wave of dizziness threatened to overpower Alma, as his body somehow simultaneously felt light and heavy; Alma felt too leaden to stand, yet his body felt as though it had the stabilization of a mere feather. His stomach felt especially hollow, to the point of feeling as though his insides were beginning to rip apart slowly.  
  
Alma exhaled, as he buckled over on the bed. He felt _sick_ – almost as though he were close to vomiting, despite there being nothing inside his body to purge. His head felt wobbly, and his whole body ached more than ever.  
  
Another breath escaped Alma, as he bought his face down to the mattress, hunched over as though he were about to collapse. He tried to remain still, until the nausea passed; however, the sensation was relentless, and Alma couldn’t ignore the absolutely _miserable_ state that his body was in.  
  
The door to Alma’s bedroom opened, and Lala walked in. Her attention swiftly landed on Alma, before her expression turned into one of alarm as she gasped. “Alma!”  
  
Alma didn’t respond. His breathing was beginning to feel labored, and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Desperately, Alma shut his eyes in an attempt to lessen the discomfort, but the effort was in vain.  
  
Lala rushed over to where Alma was, and she tried to steady him. She gently rubbed a hand over his back in a soothing motion, as she looked at Alma in concern. “Alma,” Lala said, concern trickling into her voice. “Alma, please, you need to eat or drink something – you’ve already gone too long without water.”  
  
Alma shook his head, though he swiftly regretted doing so. He could feel his equilibrium spin, his head pulsating painfully. “I…I don’t want anything…”  
  
“Alma, you can’t continue like this,” Lala emphasized, her words now firmer. “You’re not _well_. You’ve pushed yourself too far, and – Alma!”  
  
Alma didn’t respond. Despite his crouched position, the dizziness had become to much, causing him to collapse onto his side. The nausea remained, as did the ringing in his ears; Alma tried to open his eyes, but his vision was filled with black spots, nearly blinding him into a haze. _‘I can’t see…’_  
  
Faintly, Alma could hear Lala speaking. However, her voice was broken apart and distant, making it nearly impossible for Alma to determine what it was that she was saying. _‘I can’t…’_  
  
Alma grimaced, as he clutched at the bed sheets. He couldn’t tell what was really happening anymore; Lala’s voice was but a mere echo in his ears, and he was hyperaware of the silken sheets beneath his cheek.   
  
_“Alma – Alma, can you still hear me?”_  
  
Sleep. Alma just wanted to go to sleep. He felt horrible and uncomfortable, and more than anything just wanted it all to stop. The dizziness, the nausea, the emptiness…  
  
_“…Alma, please just lie down here-“_  
  
He could feel someone move him a bit, shift him so that his head was back on the pillow. However, Alma’s vision was still spotting, with patches of black marring his sight so that he was unable to see.  
  
Alma shivered. He felt unnaturally cold, but at the same time, hot. It was as though his body kept shifting temperatures, switching from one extreme to the next.  
  
_“…I’’ll be back soon-”_  
  
Alma couldn’t respond. He had even been able to properly register what had been said, with the words blurring into a dull cacophony of nonsense. Everything was jumbled, with his body feeling displaced and his pulse hammering in his ears. Erratic, shallow breaths continued to escape Alma as he strained for air, his efforts labored and strained.  
  
Alma didn’t know how long he was like this for. Was he still awake? Had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t tell anymore. He couldn’t tell what was real, and what was happening around him. His perception was too distorted, with his nightmares more vivid than reality and reality a mere haze. Chest tightening, Alma could feel a fresh wave of dismay and frustration fill him. He was so _tired…_  
  
He just wanted this all to stop.  
  
Despite his vision being darkened, Alma could feel his eyes burn. He squeezed them shut, only to feel moisture prickle at the corners.   
  
An unknown amount of time continued to pass. Alma’s consciousness continued to be shaky, with him drifting in and out of awareness; his cheeks felt damp, but Alma didn’t even know if he was actually crying anymore. He was so exhausted and so overwhelmed, that he didn’t even care. He didn’t care about how pathetic he must have looked or weak he must have seemed – he just _didn’t care_.  
  
_“…He’s over here…”_  
  
There were footsteps. Alma was only half-conscious though, with his eyes closed and his clarity fogged. However, Alma thought he could hear someone approach where he was, before a hand was placed on his forehead.  
  
_“…Huh. He really is a mess now….”  
  
“…He won’t eat or drink anything, no matter what I say…”  
  
“…Like I said. Really stubborn kid…”  
  
‘What…?’_ Alma thought, as he tried to shift a bit. The voices were familiar, but he couldn’t think of who they belonged to – Alma was too far gone, and too lost. He was too delirious.  
  
But, the hand remained on his forehead for a few seconds longer, as the touch lulled Alma to sleep.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Flower Boy had really done a number on himself. Tyki could see that much easily.  
  
It was actually rather pathetic, if not one of the most pitiful sights that Tyki had ever seen. The boy had completely depleted himself by using his powers to an explosive degree, and with having starved himself Flower Boy looked absolutely _wretched_. His skin was more pallid than what it should have been, and his cheeks were already beginning to look sunken in and hollow.  
  
Tyki sighed. Between the tantrum-throwing episode and now the starvation stunt, Flower Boy _truly_ had a knack for being overdramatic.  
  
Lala looked at Tyki, as she remained by the door. “Do you need me to stay?” she asked, as her attention flickered back to Alma.  
  
Tyki turned back to Lala, and grinned. “Nah. I think I can handle Flower Boy from here.”  
  
Lala nodded. She spared one final look in Alma’s direction, before she left the room.  
  
Once Lala was gone, Tyki looked back at Alma. The boy had shifted a bit, but otherwise appeared to be unconscious – it was a bit difficult to tell for certain.  
  
Grabbing a chair that had been against the wall, Tyki brought it over so that he could sit beside the bed and near the nightstand. On the nightstand, there was the glass orb that could be used to call Lala – and beside it, was a tray of food. Some soup, some bread, and water…it was a smaller meal, but one that should have been easy enough for Flower Boy to consume. At least, as long as he didn’t throw a fit.  
  
Tyki leaned back in his chair. He had all of the time in the world, so he himself wasn’t in a rush. But, if he didn’t want Flower Boy to wilt like a neglected little daffodil, then Tyki would need to do something. Eventually.  
  
A tired sigh escaped Tyki. The boy really _was_ a handful…  
  
There was a slight shift of movement, and Tyki’s eyes flickered back over to the bed. He could see Alma stir slightly, his face twisting into one of discomfort as a grimace marred his features. There was also a slight flush beginning to form on his cheeks despite his otherwise paleness – something that likely indicated a fever.  
  
Tyki had the impulse to roll his eyes. Well, if the boy was getting _that_ bad, then Tyki supposed he might as well take care of things now.  
  
Getting up from his seat, Tyki leaned over where Alma was. He gently brushed aside Alma’s bangs, as he carefully traced a finger down the side of Alma’s face. As Tyki did this, he noticed with interest that Alma appeared to relax a bit, the tension beginning to leave his body and the discomfort in his expression fading.  
  
Tyki smiled. He began to trace his finger back up along Alma’s cheek, before he gently caressed the side of his face, as he gently rubbed his thumb into Alma’s skin.  
  
Alma shifted a bit, almost as though he were beginning to awaken. He rolled his head, moving his face to the side a bit as his brow furrowed.  
  
Leaning closer, Tyki placed on knee on the bed. He still had his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles into Alma’s cheek, before he bent over so that his lips were close to Alma’s ear – so much, that they nearly brushed against the lobe.  
  
“Rise and shine, Flower Boy,” Tyki spoke, words low as his breath grazed Alma’s ear.  
  
Again, Alma stirred as he turned his face back. Somewhat slowly, he blinked his eyes opened – though they were bleary, causing Alma to look dazed and disoriented. He didn’t even appear to register what was happening, or that Tyki was there. “What...?”  
  
There was a small pause, as Alma stared in Tyki in half-conscious bewilderment. But, there was a gradually awakening in his eyes: a realization as his awareness slowly began to return, and as Alma registered Tyki’s presence.   
  
Quickly, Alma’s eyes widened, as a look of alarm spread across his features.   
  
“G-get away from me-” Alma started to say, as he quickly tried to shove Tyki back by the shoulder. Alma could feel himself struggle though, almost as though he were trying to shove stone; he then tried to scramble back, as he clumsily pushed himself against the headboard of the bed.   
  
Tyki laughed. It was impossible not to. Alma’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and he had the panicked look equivalent to that of some wild animal backed into a corner. Considering how he had been unconscious mere seconds before, that only made the whole spectacle all the more entertaining.  
  
Soon enough, Tyki’s laughter died, as he eyed Alma with an amused gaze. “You really are something,” Tyki spoke, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Unconscious one minute, haywire the next. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a mess of a person…”  
  
Alma’s face flushed, as he glared at Tyki. “That’s not _funny_,” Alma tried to shout, though his voice sounded weak and came out in a mere, pitiful plea. “That’s not-“  
  
Alma cut off abruptly, as his ears began to ring. Like before, the throbbing in his head had started to return, which only seemed to have been worsened by how upset Alma had just now gotten. His muscles quivered, as a tingling sensation overtook his body, causing his chest to feel tight.   
  
Desperately, Alma clung to the headboard of the bed as he threatened to topple forward, his vision spinning.  
  
Tyki reacted. He swiftly caught Alma by the shoulder, as he steadied him. “Easy there, Flower Boy – you’re not exactly in any state to be moving around much.”  
  
Alma winced. Tyki’s grip was firm, but it wasn’t painful – just uncomfortable. It didn’t help that Alma felt shaky, too, almost as though his whole body were threatening to collapse once more. His lungs were already beginning to strain for air again, and Alma’s breaths came in shallow, ragged heaps.  
  
“What…what are you doing here?” Alma managed, as he attempted to focus.   
  
Tyki hummed, as he tilted his head to the side. “Why, I came to check on you,” Tyki said, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Lala was worried, and said you weren’t feeling too well. Really, weren’t you ever told it’s unhealthy to skip meals?”  
  
Alma tensed. He immediately felt a sharp pang in his abdomen, but it ignored it as he shook his head. “I don’t want anything – I don’t _want_ anything from here-!”  
  
Tilting his head to the side, Tyki’s eyes burned into Alma’s, causing the younger deity to fall silent. Tyki’s expression only remained smug, as he spoke. “And why is that? Afraid you’ll be trapped here for all eternity?” Tyki questioned, his tone oddly light and playful.  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He had become momentarily paralyzed by Tyki’s gaze, caught like a deer in a hunter’s trap. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think – Alma’s mind was already so fogged, and being entrapped by Tyki’s gaze only worsened the haze that Alma was in.   
  
Seeing Alma’s lack of response, Tyki’s smirk broadened. “Am I right then?” he asked, further egging Alma on for some sort of reaction.  
  
Alma blinked, as his senses seemed to return to him. He broke eye contact as he looked off to the side, but in his peripheral vision he could see the tray of food on the nightstand. Stubbornly, Alma refused to look at the tray as well.  
  
“I’m not eating anything,” Alma stated, as he kept his eyes averted. “I’m not going to – stop!”  
  
Tyki moved. He still had one hand on Alma’s shoulder, but had brought his other hand to Alma’s chest. His fingers traced along the fabric of Alma’s clothing, stopping just as his touch rested over Alma’s heart. Faintly, Tyki could feel the rapid, uneven thudding in Alma’s chest, with the boy’s body freezing up uneasily.  
  
Without warning, Tyki pushed his hand into Alma’s chest – almost as though there had been nothing there.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as shock colored his expression. He didn’t dare to move, or even to speak; he could only stare, completely appalled as Tyki’s _hand_ remained inside his chest. _‘W-What…’_  
  
Tyki’s eyes flickered up. They burned like molten gold, as they seared with an oddly knowing look. But Tyki didn’t speak for a moment, as he only stared at Alma, his eyes brimming with an intensity so scorching that Alma couldn’t look away – he just _couldn’t_.  
  
Finally, Tyki leaned forward, his face once more coming close to Alma’s. He stopped just as his lips were yet again close to Alma’s ear, where Tyki spoke lowly. “Your heartbeat is weak – that’s not a good sign for you,” he said. “It’s irregular, and it’s already beginning to slow.”  
  
Alma remained silent. He was too stunned, and too frightened to move – _could_ he move? Alma didn’t know what would happen if he did. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to move with Tyki’s hand inside him, and he was too frightened to find out.  
  
Swallowing, Alma tried to keep still. He didn’t know why Tyki was doing this – he didn’t know why Tyki wouldn’t just leave him _alone…_  
  
Again, Tyki’s eyes moved up to meet Alma’s, as he caught the boy’s gaze for a few small seconds.   
  
Tyki then removed his hand from Alma’s chest.  
  
Alma gasped, the sensation of the phantom touch leaving him cold. He swiftly clasped his hands over his chest, as he proactively attempted to cover it. He didn’t know why Tyki had done that, but Alma hadn’t liked it; the sensation had been _invasive_, and Alma didn’t want to risk Tyki doing it again.  
  
Tyki pulled a bit back, as he watched Alma defensively conceal his heart. “You know, you won’t die as quickly as a human,” Tyki commented, tone strangely casual. “But we still can’t afford to let that happen. What sort of hosts would we be if we let our guest die?”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed, as he glared at Tyki. “I’m not a guest if I’m _trapped_ here,” he spat, completely put off by the way Tyki kept referring to him as a “guest.” A prisoner perhaps, but hardly anything more.  
  
“Alright, so we had to take some precautions – but it’s not like we could let you run just _anywhere_,” Tyki emphasized, as he sat back in his chair. He crossed his arms, as he looked at Alma with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, you’re in no condition to be going anywhere now. Not until you eat something.”  
  
Alma bristled, once more turning defensive. “I told you I’m _not going to_!”  
  
“You didn’t even let me finish,” Tyki said. His demeanor was still calm and casual, almost too much for Alma’s liking. Tyki nodded his head toward the tray on the nightstand, before continuing. “That food is from the mortal realm. It’s not from here in the Underworld.”  
  
Alma paused. He immediately assumed that he had misheard, with his lack of clarity once more disrupting his perception. However, Tyki didn’t say anything else, which only left Alma to stare back dumbly.   
  
Tyki tilted his head to the side and smiled at Alma. “Didn’t you hear me? That food is perfectly safe and it won’t trap you here.”  
  
Alma continued to stare at Tyki, as the Noah’s words slowly registered. Mutely, Alma shook his head, though he had to stop as his surroundings swayed. His fingers clutched at the bed for support, as he looked away from Tyki. “You’re…you’re lying.”  
  
“Yeah? How do you know?” Tyki asked.  
  
Alma continued to clutch at the sheets. He could feel the nausea beginning to return a bit, which seemed to have been caused by the small bit of dizziness he felt. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Alma tried to breathe, but the action was doing little to ease him.   
  
“Because…because you’re a _Noah_. You can’t even go to the mortal realm unless the Order allows you to!” Alma expressed, as frustration was beginning to brim in his voice once more. He had already been trapped, degraded to having some anklet put on him as though he were an animal, and pushed to starvation. But now Tyki was here, with warm food and a promise that it was safe? It was a cruel thing to do, and Alma had just about _had_ it.  
  
“You’re lying,” Alma repeated, as he continued to avoid looking at Tyki. “So just stop trying to _trick_ me – I’m not _stupid-_!”  
  
As Alma shouted this, he could hear his voice threaten to crack. He didn’t have the energy to even sit upright, let alone raise his voice – something that was just another testament to how pitifully _weak_ Alma was. It was infuriating, and Alma hated it; he hated how fragile he felt, and he hated how childish he must have seemed. He hated how childish everyone must have _thought _he was. _‘I’m not…’_  
  
There was a slight shift of movement, but Alma didn’t look up. He was trembling slightly, and flinched as he felt Tyki’s fingers take his chin, before Alma was forced to look up. His large, wide blue eyes blinked, as his gaze met Tyki’s.  
  
Golden eyes. Golden eyes so bright, but Alma didn’t want to look at them. He wanted to look away.  
  
Tyki wasn’t merciful. He didn’t release Alma from his grip; his touch was light, but it was like iron, unyielding and unrelenting despite the gentleness of his grasp. It was unsettling. Alma almost would have felt better had Tyki been rough with him, but so far, the Noah had harbored a level of care to his actions. They were precise, and deliberate – and that made Alma nervous.  
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze a bit longer, as he took in the boy’s features. For a small, fleeting moment, his eyes landed on the strange scar that stretched across the bridge of Alma’s nose. It was a bit peculiar, and Tyki couldn’t think of what had caused it. Especially when Alma had been someone so carefully protected.  
  
Such a question would have to wait.  
  
Still holding Alma by the chin, Tyki never once broke eye contact. “Never said you were stupid,” Tyki said, as he gave Alma a charming smile. “But I might if you keep starving yourself like some masochist.”  
  
Alma’s face flushed, and Tyki released his grip on Alma. Despite having been seated, Alma still nearly lost his balance, and braced himself against the mattress with his hands.  
  
“Now, for the _last time_,” Tyki started to say, as he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the glass of water. “This water is from a spring in the mortal realm – it won’t lock you here. But if you run yourself into the ground…well, that’s on you.”  
  
Alma stared at the water. He would have been lying if he had tried to say his body wasn’t yearning for the fresh water; his throat was now so dry that it burned, and he hadn’t been without a headache since having arrived in the Underworld. Understandably, Alma’s impulse was to drink it.  
  
But, Alma only continued to stare at the water, as he hesitated. “But…how did you get it?” Alma asked, not understanding how anything Tyki had brought him could have been from the mortal realm. “If you can’t go there…”  
  
Tyki grinned. “It’s a secret,” he said. “But I give you my word as a Noah – any food I bring you will be from the upper world, alright? And I don’t make promises unless I can keep them.”   
  
Alma didn’t say anything. Even with Tyki giving his word, Alma didn’t know how much value that had. In general, no deity ever gave their word since it was the same as a binding contract – but was that true for the Noah? Alma couldn’t say for certain, but he was feeling faint, and with each passing second it was becoming increasingly difficult to go without any food or water.   
  
After a moment, Alma’s eyes flickered up to Tyki once more. There was a wary look in his gaze, as he spoke quietly. “But…why?” Alma asked. “Why would you…even bother…?”  
  
Tyki blinked. He then chuckled, as a hint of amusement glimmered in his eyes. “Simple. You’re more valuable alive than you are dead.”  
  
Alma shuddered. The words sent a chill down his spine, as though a kiss of ice had grazed his skin.   
  
Valuable. Alma was only being kept alive because he was seen as being _valuable_…  
  
Tyki moved a bit, as he pushed the glass into Alma’s grasp, maneuvering Alma’s hands so that the boy had a solid grip on the water. However, Alma’s hands were still weak and shaky; they trembled, causing his hold to be tenuous.  
  
Because of this, Tyki kept his hands over Alma’s. His eyes briefly moved to where he caught Alma’s gaze, as he spoke. “Here,” Tyki said, as he guided Alma’s hands so that the rim of the glass was brought close to Alma’s lips. “Get some water in you before you pass out again.”  
  
Alma wavered. The glass was cool to the touch, with the water crystal clear inside. Despite this, Alma still struggled to trust Tyki; he couldn’t help but view the water as some kind of poison, with some fatal catch looming beneath the surface. The mere thought caused Alma’s heart to beat anxiously, as the silence stretched on in the room.  
  
Dully, Alma’s head pounded. It hurt so badly, and he was so _thirsty_…  
  
Alma’s eyes moved up to meet Tyki’s one final time before he drank from the glass.  
  
The water tasted good – no, it tasted _amazing_. Or, perhaps it only tasted amazing because Alma had so desperately needed it. He wasn’t sure anymore. Alma had intended to pace himself, with maybe only a few sips, but he had already drank what was in the glass, consuming the liquid so quickly that he nearly choked toward the end.  
  
Alma coughed, as he sputtered a small bit of water. His lungs heaved for air as he tried to catch his breath, buckling over slightly.  
  
Tyki steadied Alma, as a low chuckle escaped him. “Easy there, Flower Boy,” Tyki said. He then smirked, as he noticed some water that had spilled from the corner of Alma’s mouth. Taking his thumb, Tyki wiped it. “Or else you’ll make a mess everywhere.”  
  
Alma averted his gaze. He felt a bit embarrassed by how greedily he had consumed the water, but Alma hadn’t been able to help himself. He actually found that he still _was_ thirsty, though now he was too sheepish to ask for anything more aloud.  
  
Fortunately, Tyki ceased his teasing, as he took the tray from the nightstand. He placed the tray on the bed in front of Alma, which held the soup the bread – though Tyki handed the bowl of soup to Alma directly. “You going to be able to take it yourself this time, or am I going to have to help again?”  
  
Alma could feel the heat rise to his cheeks, and he took the bowl from Tyki. While Alma’s grasp was still a bit shaky, the water had already helped to clear his head a little, thus making it easier for Alma to focus. Immediately, Alma could smell the soup, with a hint of lemon and chicken filling his nostrils.  
  
Surprise filled Alma, as he recognized the dish. Blinking, he looked at Tyki in confusion. “Avgolemono?”  
  
Tyki raised and eyebrow, as he looked at Tyki questioningly. “That a problem?” he asked. “Figured you’d need something easy on your stomach, what with how the last few days have been.”  
  
Alma looked down swiftly, and he shook his head. “It’s…fine,” he said, though in his chest his heart twisted. Avgolemono wasn’t uncommon, but Alma had always been given it by his parents when he didn’t feel well.  
  
Silently, Alma wondered what his parents were doing now. If they had gone to the Order, if they were looking for him…  
  
_‘They must be so worried…’_ Alma thought, the realization causing him to feel wretched. His parents already worried so much to begin with, and Alma couldn’t imagine how they probably were now.  
  
Tyki watched Alma, noticing how the younger deity had gone still. Crossing his arms, Tyki slouched by in his chair as he spoke. “You know, if you have a thing against the soup I won’t be offended. But I did go through the trouble of getting that food for you, so you could at least _try _to like it.”  
  
Alma looked up, somewhat startled by the comment. However, he broke eye contact as soon as his eyes met Tyki’s, with his gaze turning downcast. Without saying anything, Alma took a spoonful of the soup to his lips, and swallowed – it was surprisingly warm, and the taste was flavorful. Alma immediately felt comforted, but again wasn’t sure if this was the hint of familiarity he felt or the fact that he had been without food for so long.  
  
Quickly, Alma finished the meal, with his hunger having urged him to yet again to eat faster than what he normally would have. Soon enough, the soup and bread were both gone, with Alma feeling far better than he had thought he would.  
  
As Alma placed the bowl back onto the tray, Tyki’s eyes rested on Alma. The Noah hadn’t bothered to speak while Alma was eating – something that Alma was grateful for, despite the slight awkwardness of it all.   
  
“Feel better?” Tyki asked, as he crossed his legs.  
  
Alma looked off to the side, once more trying to avoid making eye contact. Despite the relief the food and brought him, a small part of childish pride burned inside of Alma, and he found himself unwilling to admit so aloud. However, Alma was also feeling more coherent, with his rationale beginning to return. And one thing Alma realized was that Tyki was _unpredictable_ – he didn’t know how the Noah would react if offended further. And if Tyki was willing to bother to actually bring Alma food that was safe to eat…Alma didn’t know if he could afford to push himself without food or water again.  
  
Still avoiding eye contact, Alma nodded his head silently.  
  
Tyki grinned. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he noted, before taking the tray. “Maybe now you’ll be less moody.”  
  
Alma looked up, as he watched Tyki stand to leave. He wasn’t sure what he had expected – maybe a harsher word rather than a teasing quip, or even a confession that Alma _had_ been tricked. But, Tyki was making no effort to do such a thing, and it confused Alma. The Noah was just being so _casual_, with an unsettling closeness to what some could have even described as amiable.   
  
Before leaving, Tyki spared Alma a final glance. “Don’t worry – I’ll be sure Lala only brings you things from the mortal realm,” Tyki said, yet again surprising Alma. “Maybe in the meantime, walk around. You know, rather than waste away in this room.”  
  
Alma blinked, completely perplexed. He remembered the anklet though, and could feel his insides twist, with the words Tyki spoke suddenly feeling more taunting than not.   
  
Swiftly, Alma looked off to the side, as his heart clenched. “I can’t leave,” he said, unable to completely ignore the sting he felt as he admitted such aloud.   
  
Tyki laughed. He did so with ease, causing Alma to stiffen; Alma just didn’t understand what it was that was so entertaining. Did the Noah truly find Alma’s plight so amusing?   
  
Laughter dying, Tyki’s eyes glimmered a bit. “Sure you can,” he said, as though such a thing were somehow obvious. “You just can’t go _outside_ – not the safest place for you to be when you have no idea where everything is.”  
  
Alma looked up, completely startled. “What?” he asked, the question coming out rather dumbly.   
  
Another chuckled escaped Tyki. He was thoroughly entertained by Alma’s reaction, with the boy never ceasing to bring some amusement. Tyki’s reaction this time around was milder. “I said you can leave,” Tyki said, as an almost impish glint appeared in his eyes. “Just don’t get lost. Or piss anyone off. You weren’t too nice to Lulu Bell your first day here.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, although the name rang a bell. He recalled Sheril saying the name, and…  
  
Alma stiffened, as he suddenly recalled the panther. The same, horrible beast that had chased him through the halls, and back to his room like some wretched, cornered little animal.  
  
Tyki didn’t bother to wait for a response from Alma, as he started walking. Casually, he glanced back at Alma and smiled. “Later.”  
  
Alma didn’t even get a chance to say anything back, as Tyki phased through the door, and disappeared from sight.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The Order wasn’t pleased.  
  
Sheril hadn’t expected anything less. He had anticipated the accusatory words and biting rhetoric; it was common in all correspondences with the Order at this point. The demeaning tone. The arrogance. Everything was just laced with such _hubris_ – it was really quite tiresome. Especially coming from the new gods.  
  
It was tiresome, but inevitable. Especially with the current circumstances.  
  
Sheril remained quiet. He was standing, waiting patiently as the other occupant in the room remained seated. In their hands, they held the most recent letter that had been sent to the Underworld – a scathing reply, demanding that the boy be returned unless evidence of any blood contract be made. Sheril admittedly was even a bit surprised; the reply had come swiftly, having arrived just that morning.   
  
Clearly, the Changs wanted their son back – and they were pushing the Order to do something about it.  
  
There was a low chuckle – a heavy, dry sound from the individual seated. He looked to be middle-aged, with dark stubble on his chin and combed back dark hair. Across his forehead, a series of cross-like markings could be seen, but he was otherwise what some may have referred to as handsome – charming, even.  
  
“So they want proof of a contract. I’m not surprised – they’re always so quick to make accusations,” the man said, as his eyes burned brightly in the darkness. He looked up at Sheril, before handing him back the letter. “Let’s give it to them. Tell them you’ll bring them the contract, and they can see for themselves – maybe then they’ll be more open to negotiating.”  
  
Sheril’s lips curled upward into a smile. “Of course,” he said. “I can do it now, even.”  
  
The man shook his head, a smile on his face. “No, not now – make them wait a bit. Send the response tomorrow, and tell them you’ll come in a few days. A week, even,” he said, as he threw his hand up into the air. “Make them wait. If they want it so badly, they can come themselves.”  
  
Sheril nodded in understand. “Of course, Lord Millennium,” he said, words velvety smooth. A grin then stretched across his features, as his eyes gleamed. “I’ll do just that.”  
  
The Millennium Earl sat back in his chair. He was dressed formally, yet there was an oddly casual air about him. “How is our little house guest doing?” he asked. “I heard he’s been a bit unhappy. What a shame that he isn’t enjoying himself.”  
  
Sheril sniffed dismissively. “It’s a shame he isn’t more well-behaved. But he’s starting to calm down.”  
  
“He should. I heard Tyki was bringing him some food himself,” the Earl said, as his gaze met Sheril’s. “Took it on himself to send a servant through an ark door. Had to say I was a bit surprised, but his logic made sense so I couldn’t be too mad about it.”  
  
Hearing this, Sheril’s eyes narrowed. “He wasted an ark door to send someone to get food?”  
  
“Waste is a harsh word, Sheril. Think of it as an investment,” the Earl said. “The boy will let his guard down eventually. Which will make him much easier to handle.”  
  
Sheril didn’t say anything. The displeasure remained evident on his features, but he didn’t dare to speak out against Lord Millennium. However, Sheril wasn’t as inclined to keep as quiet about his brother.  
  
“That’s true,” Sheril said, keeping his tone somewhat wary. “But you know how Tyki tends to get…_attached _to useless things.”  
  
The Earl laughed. “And you’re worried about him? I understand – you’re in the right. Even I worry,” the Earl admitted. He then smiled, with his teeth bright against the darkness. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on things, won’t we?”  
  
Sheril exhaled. In his hands, he clasped at the letter.   
  
“Yes,” Sheril conceded. “Yes, we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of those chapters where it was really painful to write at first, but had such, such payoff for me. It was really heavy having to write Alma in the beginning of this; he’s so devastated of what’s happened that he’s just starving himself, which, after all he’s done energy-wise isn’t something that’s going to help him. 
> 
> So, I thought Tyki bringing Alma food (namely, food from the upper world) would be one way to start that budding relationship. By this point, Alma really is desperate for something, and Tyki? Tyki gives it to him. So it really is like the event to open that door for something to start there. With the exception of Lala (who frankly, Alma still doesn’t know at this point), Alma doesn’t really have any allies in the Underworld. It’s very much a survival instinct that’s started to kick in, and for Alma, Tyki’s already becoming a sense of some security, even if unstable. (This is also heightened by the fact that Tyki brings Alma comfort food - because if you haven’t had avgolemono, you need to know it’s the ultimate comfort food. I had it when writing this chapter. XD)
> 
> And Tyki is just..I don’t know? He’s a bit confusing, because he doesn’t actually care //too much//, but at the same time, he’s got a softer side than some of the other Noah. He can be pretty cruel and taunting, but he’s not heartless? He still views Alma as something as a means to an end for his family’s sake, but at the same time has seen how extreme Alma can be - so in a way he’s countering that, which is going to inevitably lead to things going further. (It doesn’t help that Tyki doesn’t really make an effort to stop this early on either - considering how bored he gets, he sort of views this as entertainment in a way; it’s shaking up his life, which has been pretty much imprisonment for the last so many years).
> 
> On a final note, it’s Alma’s birthday today and AAAAA. God, I miss him in DGM. ;__;
> 
> As always, comments and feedback welcome! <3


	14. The Greenhouse

It had been five days since Alma had been taken to the Underworld.  
  
Five days. It had been five days since Alma had been taken from the meadow, and dragged down into the darkness with no chance of escape. It had been five days since he had been ripped from a world of sunshine, and taken from the only home that he had ever known.  
  
It had been five days since Alma had been taken, and five days since he had last had any contact with his family.  
  
Alma looked out the window. As always, it was dark: an eternal night, with the sky nothing but a cavern of unyielding darkness. Up above, glimpses of onyx and amethyst glinted like stars, as it gave the illusion of a starry sky, all while stripping away the promise of a limitless horizon.   
  
Alma’s eyes shifted downward. Below, he could see the hedge maze spiraling out as well, twisting and turning in all sorts of dizzying directions.   
  
A small sigh escaped Alma, as he turned away from the window. He was sitting by it, having moved the divan in the room so it was beside the window. It had been a small change, but one that had been instinctive; Alma had always had the divan by the window in his room at home so he could look outside. He had wanted to do the same in the room he was currently kept in.   
  
If anything, it offered some small comfort. Not a lot, but some.  
  
Alma leaned against the side of the wall, as his eyes lingered on the windowsill. Along it, several wildflowers had grown, with their stems twirling out and up along the window frame. Waving his hand across them, Alma watched as they stretched up a bit higher, with several more blossoms appearing.  
  
Again, it was something familiar. But, it was also only a small comfort.  
  
Alma’s eyes remained on the flowers. There was a distant look in his eyes, one that harbored something longing and sad. There was just this _hollowness_ inside Alma; it ached quietly, pulsating like a wound that stubbornly refused to heal. It was always there, sometimes so quiet that it was but a dull whisper in the back of Alma’s mind – but at other times it would be loud, and screech so shrilly that Alma would find it unbearable. Intolerable.  
  
He missed his family, and he wanted to go home.  
  
_‘I haven’t heard anything from them…’_ Alma thought, as he brushed his fingers against one of the flowers.   
  
Alma didn’t understand. His family would have realized he had been taken to the Underworld, wouldn’t they? They would have realized it, and surely by now they would have sent someone to get Alma, if not at the very least send a correspondence. Alma had been certain of this when he was first taken. He had been certain that they would do this.  
  
But, after five days…Alma had heard _nothing_.  
  
Inside, Alma felt his insides churn nauseously. What if his family thought he was somewhere else? What if for some reason they _couldn’t_ come to get him…?  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma told himself. _‘No, they wouldn’t….they wouldn’t let me stay here…’_  
  
Alma repeated this to himself. But at the same time, he couldn’t ignore how long it had been – he couldn’t ignore that he had been in the Underworld for almost a week. Trapped with that cursed anklet on him, while being treated like more a mockery of a guest rather than a legitimate one. Lala still came to attend to Alma’s needs, but each time, Alma was only reminded of his entrapment. The clothes she had initially brought were so darkly colored and strange; Alma had refused to wear any of it until Lala brought some lightly-colored chitons similar to what Alma normally wore. And the food, though it was brought, came with the reminder that it was _safe_ – and that it wouldn’t trap Alma in the Underworld permanently, as Tyki had promised.  
  
Tyki.  
  
A small shiver passed through Alma’s shoulders. Alma didn’t know what to think of Tyki. He certainly didn’t trust him, but Alma wasn’t sure what else to make of the Noah. Upon meeting Tyki, the Noah had only seemed to enjoy taunting Alma – even when he had bothered to bring Alma food and water.   
  
But, Alma hadn’t seen Tyki since. He hadn’t seen any of the Noah in the last three days.  
  
Alma shifted, as his eyes moved to the door. Sometimes, he wondered if one of the Noah like Tyki might abruptly show up again. But in the last three days, Lala had been the only visitor that Alma had received. Alma wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, or a bad thing. He definitely _was_ somewhat relieved not to have had to deal with any of the Noah…  
  
Still. This didn’t erase the anxiety always brimming in the back of his mind that they could come at any moment.  
  
Turning away from the door, Alma again looked back out the window. It had been five days, and he was still stuck in that _room._...  
  
_“I said you can leave,” Tyki said, as an almost impish glint appeared in his eyes. “Just don’t get lost.”_  
  
Alma gripped at his arm, as he recalled Tyki’s words the last time he had visited Alma. Tyki had _said_ that Alma could leave the room…but Alma hadn’t been comfortable doing so. A few times, Alma had become restless, and come close to wandering even the hallway outside – but, every time Alma almost did so, he recalled his first day there, when he had been chased down by that panther and driven back into his room.  
  
Would Tyki have lied to him? It should have been an easy answer – it should have been _yes_.  
  
Alma didn’t know.  
  
Alma shifted, repositioning himself on the divan a bit. He was beginning to feel restless again, with an almost feverish desire to at least go _somewhere._ The first two days of being in the Underworld, Alma barely remembered; he had been so delirious and distraught, with that time becoming blurred. But the next three days had slowly become _excruciating_ – Alma was given food and fresh clothes, and had a bathing room to use, but otherwise had been stuck. Confined to a gilded cage like a little songbird with clipped wings.  
  
_‘Even though it’s dark…it would be nice to at least go outside…’_ Alma thought, though he knew that much was impossible. The golden band he still had locked onto his left ankle wouldn’t allow him to leave the castle itself.  
  
There was a small knock at the door, startling Alma. He instinctively tensed, as his eyes flashed over to the door just as it opened.  
  
Alma relaxed, as soon as he saw it was only Lala.  
  
Lala walked in, as she placed a silver pitcher of water on the nightstand, along with a glass. Once she did this, she turned to Alma.   
  
“This pitcher is a bit larger than the last I brought you – so you shouldn’t go through water as quickly,” she said.  
  
Alma nodded, though he felt somewhat guilty. He had drunk the water Lala had brought before rather quickly, but he hadn’t meant to cause her any extra labor.  
  
“Sorry – I’ll try not to go through it so fast this time,” Alma apologized.  
  
Lala smiled at Alma. “It’s alright – it’s my job to attend to you while you’re here,” she reassured.   
  
Alma didn’t respond. Lala had told Alma this repeatedly, though it still felt strange. Alma wasn’t sure what he would have expected with having been taken to the Underworld, but having someone attend to his needs was _not _something that Alma would have imagined. Alma just didn’t understand why any of the Noah would bother – they certainly didn’t seem to care about what Alma actually _wanted_.  
  
Once more, Alma’s eyes flickered to the window. Something painful tugged at his heart, as a longing look filled his eyes.  
  
Lala noticed this. She watched as Alma distantly gazed out the window, still seated on the divan with the flowers curling around the windowsill. Gently, some of the stems pushed against the glass – almost as though the wildflowers themselves were yearning to escape.  
  
Lala walked over to where Alma was, as her gaze also flickered out to the window. She noted the hedge maze below as she spoke. “It’s good you didn’t go into there your first day here. No one but the Noah know how to get through it.”  
  
Alma turned back to Lala, eyes curious. “Have you ever been inside?”  
  
Lala shook her head. “No, and I really don’t ever want to,” she said, as her attention remained on the maze. “That maze isn’t a kind place.”  
  
Alma fought a small shudder, as Lala’s words reached his ears. There was something chilling about the statement, and Alma could feel the hair on his arms stand. In his mind, he thought about what it must have been like to be in that maze: alone, in the darkness, with endless twists and turns…  
  
It was a frightening thought.  
  
Sensing the unease in the air, Lala took a step back. “I should be off now,” she said, as she returned her attention to Alma. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you – if you need anything, just call for me.”  
  
Before Lala could leave, Alma spoke up. “Wait!” he started, causing Lala to stop.   
  
Lala looked at Alma questioningly, as she waited for Alma to continue.  
  
Alma swallowed, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…I was just wondering…” Alma began to say, though the words threatened to knot up in his throat before he could properly articulate them. “I was wondering if…if you had heard anything about my family? Have they sent a message or…anything?”  
  
Lala paused. She then shook her head, as a regretful glimmer appeared in her one visible eye. “No…I’m sorry,” Lala offered. “If they have sent anything, I haven’t been told. The Noah don’t like to say too much in front of me.”  
  
Alma felt his heart sink, as he looked away. _‘Nothing…’_  
  
Seeing Alma’s reaction, Lala quickly spoke up. “If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”  
  
Alma nodded. He turned back to Lala, as he offered her a weak smile. “Thanks.”  
  
Lala smiled gently in return. “Would you like to be shown around at all? You’ve been in this room for a few days, and if you’d like to see some of the castle, I can accompany you.”  
  
Alma hesitated. He would have bee lying had he said he didn’t want to leave. Being in that room was making him restless; it didn’t matter how large or luxurious it was. Alma had just been_ stuck_ there, with hardly anything to do. There were a few books, but Alma couldn’t read the language that they were in, and Alma could feel a pent-up energy building inside.  
  
But, when Alma thought about leaving, the memories of his first day in the Underworld resurfaced.  
  
Because of this, Alma wavered. He looked down uncomfortably. “I…I don’t know,” Alma said, as he once more found himself thinking about his initial interaction with Sheril, and the panther that had chased Alma back to his room.  
  
Lala listened, as an understanding look filled her expression. “We wouldn’t have to go far – maybe just a small walk would help you feel better?”  
  
Alma was quiet for a moment longer, before finally nodding his head. “Okay.”  
  
Lala waited, as Alma got up from the divan to join her. Alma could still feel himself inching toward hesitation, as Lala walked on a bit before him. But, Alma forced the unease aside and followed the doll-like girl outside into the hallway.   
  
Immediately, Alma was greeted by darkness.  
  
An unnerving shiver passed through Alma, as his eyes flickered around the hall. There were torches lit, but the shadows appeared far greater in comparison, looming above like monsters that threatened to swallow the light whole.  
  
Lala had already started walking, seemingly unaffected by the shadowy environment. However, she soon noticed that Alma wasn’t following, and stopped. “Everything alright?” Lala asked, as she glanced back at Alma.  
  
Alma nodded, as he quickly caught up to her.  
  
They both started walking after that, with Lala mostly leading. Alma didn’t mind though – he had no idea where they were going, and Alma knew he would only get lost if he wandered around on his own. The halls all looked so similar, and it was so _soundless_ – the whole atmosphere made Alma uneasy, and even more so when he realized how _empty_ the area was.  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered about, before he spoke. “Is…anyone else around here? It’s so quiet…”  
  
Lala shook her head. “No – the Noah all have their chambers in a different wing of the castle, and the servants’ quarters are also in another area,” Lala explained. “The hallway you’re in is where guests would stay, but since you’re the only guest it’s just you here.”  
  
Alma pressed his lips together, as he took in Lala’s response. The Noah weren’t close, which Alma realized was good; he didn’t trust them, and naturally didn’t want to be near them. He didn’t want anything to do with them.  
  
But, the fact that Alma was the only one in that wingwas…_isolating_.  
  
_‘That must be why Lala’s the only person I ever hear from…’_ Alma realized. _‘Even Tyki hasn’t come around since that one time…’_  
  
Again, Alma supposed this was a good thing. However, an icy sensation continued to grip at his flesh, while his chest felt sickeningly hollow.  
  
Lala glanced over at Alma. “Lord Tyki did tell me that you’re permitted to walk around the castle,” she noted. “If you’d like I could show you some areas you might want to visit more. Or we could just walk a bit and I’ll tell you about them in case you’d like to go later on.”  
  
Alma turned to Lala. He was a bit surprised by the reminder, if only because it verified that Tyki _hadn’t_ been deceiving Alma when he said that Alma could leave the room. Alma was struggling to think of what areas he would want to visit though; while he had hardly seen any other parts of the castle aside from what he had seen his first day there, not much looked appealing.  
  
“Um,” Alma fumbled, as he tried to think of what he actually _did_ want. “I’m not sure where I’d go here…”  
  
Lala seemed to understand, as she looked forward once more. “Well, it depends on what sort of things you like. There is a library if you like reading, and there’s a picture gallery. A lot of the Noah seem fond of art, so they keep a lot of paintings there,” Lala explained.  
  
Alma listened. He found it strange to hear about these places, since it was difficult for him to envision any of the Noah, well…._having_ such interests. In a sense, it reminded Alma more of what he would have expected to see at the Acropolis.  
  
A small breath escaped Alma, as he tried to think. He supposed the library would be one option, so long as he could find something in a language that he could read…  
  
“Oh!” Lala exclaimed, before she turned back to Alma. There was an almost excitable glimmer in her good eye, as she seemed to realize something. “You like flowers, don’t you? There’s a greenhouse connected to the castle you could go to – there are a lot of plants and flowers there.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma’s ears perked up. “Really?” he asked, feeling a flutter of something in his chest – something hopeful.  
  
“Yes – we can go now if you’d like,” Lala offered. “I actually prefer the greenhouse to the garden. Because it’s so dark outside, all of the flowers in the garden are nocturnal ones. But the greenhouse has a better variety there.”  
  
“I’d like to go,” Alma said, as a tremor of eagerness spilled into his voice, as a timid smile appeared on his face. “That…actually sounds really nice.”  
  
Lala nodded, as a small smile graced her lips. “This way, then.”  
  
They walked on a bit farther, going all the way down the hall and turning down a somewhat larger corridor. As they moved, Alma periodically would gaze about the area, as he attempted to desperately remember which way they were going. While Alma didn’t know if he would actually be able do so, he wanted to at the very least _try_ to remember where things were. The last thing Alma wanted to do was to get lost in such an imposing place.  
  
Eventually, they came to a staircase – one that was a bit narrower, and twisted downward. Alma was immediately wary; there were still torches extending down along the wall to help see, but the staircase twisted into a void that made Alma want to squirm.  
  
Glancing back at Alma, Lala spoke. “Don’t worry – it doesn’t actually go down that far,” she said, as she took note of Alma’s discomfort. “It only appears that way. Just follow me.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he watched Lala descend down the staircase. He followed, as he placed one hand on the wall to stead himself. The steps weren’t too steep, but it was narrow – Alma didn’t want to risk falling.  
  
Fortunately, Lala was correct: the staircase didn’t go as deeply as Alma had feared it would. They soon exited out into another hall, with the door to the staircase shutting behind them.  
  
“You can always tell this door leads upstairs because of the brass handle,” Lala mentioned, as she pointed back to the door. “That way you’ll know if in case you ever need to come back on your own.”  
  
Alma noted this, as they walked down another corridor – this one wider, and with tall windows on each side. As Alma looked, he could see they had come to the ground level of the castle, with more hedges now visible outside, as the sky glimmered above like broken gemstones.  
  
It was almost hard for Alma to remember that the sky in this world was nothing but the ceiling of a cavern.  
  
Lala stopped walking, causing Alma to re-focus his attention forward. As he did, he could see that they had stopped in front of a pair of tall, glass doors. They were fogged, so Alma couldn’t see through them clearly. The glass doors held a silvery tint to them, causing them to stand out from the other castle décor, and they had intricate carvings on them that almost appeared floral.  
  
Alma stared, as he observed the details of the door. However, he was forced to stop as Lala opened them, allowing for them both to go inside.  
  
Inside was nothing like what Alma had expected.  
  
Lala had been right: the greenhouse _was _filled with an array of plants and flowers. Daffodils, hyacinths, roses – there were so many flowers, all of different colors and sizes. They were all there, with their sweet fragrance perfuming the inside of the greenhouse, and filling Alma’s lungs with a comfort that he had not felt in _days_.  
  
Then, there was the light.  
  
It was almost a shock to Alma. Everywhere in the castle was so dark and dim, with nothing but ancient torches and long, towering shadows in every space and corner. However, the greenhouse was _bright_ – not in a blinding way, but more than Alma would have dared to hope for. There was even a silver fountain in the center of the greenhouse, and citrine-laced lanterns filled the air as they emitted a gentle, warm glow; they hung about from the ceiling, which Alma could see was built from crushed blue topaz and sapphire.   
  
Alma stared, completely awestruck. _‘It…looks like the sky…’  
  
_“Since there’s no sunlight here, the greenhouse is designed to recreate a similar effect through the lanterns,” Lala explained. “It helps to maintain the plants.”  
  
Alma couldn’t even speak. He could only stare, as he silently took in the sight around him. Plants, flowers, _light_ – all of the sudden, Alma could feel himself becoming overwhelmed, as these elements caused memories of being in the above realm to resurface in Alma’s mind. Waking up every morning to sunshine pouring in through his window, going outside to feel the warmth of daylight on his skin, and to be encompassed by all of the trees and wildflowers…  
  
Alma missed his home. He missed it so much. He missed being in the light _so much_.  
  
Walking over to some daffodils, Alma knelt down. He ran his fingers over the soft yellow petals, as the sensation offered him some small, fragile grain of familiarity.   
  
“It’s so beautiful,” Alma said, unable to deny the greenhouse’s stunning design. He looked back at Lala, and offered an appreciative smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”  
  
“It’s always unlocked, so you can come here whenever you’d like,” Lala mentioned. “It’s probably the only place in the castle illuminated so brightly, but I thought it’d be somewhere you’d prefer to spend your time.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma felt a wave of gratitude pass over him. While the Noah had been cruel, Lala had at the very least been kind to Alma – something that Alma was deeply thankful for. It meant more than Alma could express to know that at the very least Lala had been thinking about where Alma may have been happier, and had even taken the time to show him somewhere that evoked some sense of comfort.   
  
If anything, it was better than being stuck in some dimly lit room all day.

* * *

  
  
“Your move.”  
  
Tyki looked at the cards in his hand. He eyed them carefully, as his eyes skimmed over the five cards he had acquired: a four of a kind, plus an ace. Easily a strong hand, so long as Fiidora _didn’t_ have a straight flush up his sleeve. Eyes flickering upward, Tyki watched Fiidora’s expression carefully. As always, the other Noah was languid and at ease – completely calm as though he didn’t harbor a care in the world.  
  
Then, Tyki noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Fiidora’s mouth.  
  
“Call,” Tyki said.  
  
They both reacted, swiftly throwing down their cards at the same time.   
  
A grin stretched across Tyki’s face, as he saw Fiidora’s cards: it only consisted of a flush, with just one card being off from making it a straight one.  
  
“Looks like I win,” Tyki declared, as he leaned back in his chair. “Good try, though.”  
  
Fiidora exhaled. “You always win – you always cheat somehow,” he accused, though there wasn’t any real bite to his words. If anything, Fiidora more sounded amused. “That doesn’t make it easy for anyone.”  
  
From a bit away, Wisely snorted. He was sitting on a sofa with his legs crossed, as he watched where Tyki and Fiidora were playing cards at a smaller table. “You _both_ were cheating,” Wisely pointed out, before addressing Fiidora specifically. “You just did a horrible job.”  
  
Fiidora shrugged. “It’s not like we were actually betting anything – you could at least be a little more supportive of our endeavors.”  
  
Wisely rolled his eyes, as he sat more upright. “If you wanted that kind of support, you should have asked Road to be your cheerleader.”  
  
“Where is she, anyways?” Fiidora asked. “I haven’t seen her around – is she with the twins or something?”  
  
Wisely shook his head. “No, she decided to go visit that…whatever his name is,” Wisely said, as he waved his hand. “Seems our house guest finally decided to venture out.”  
  
As Wisely said this, Tyki’s eyes shifted upward. There was a somewhat intrigued look in his eyes. “Flower Boy came out?”  
  
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” Wisely said, as he leaned back against the sofa. “The doll girl decided to show him around, I suppose.”  
  
Tyki stood up, as he pushed the chair back. Without saying anything, he started to walk away toward the door.  
  
Fiidora looked toward Tyki, completely perplexed. “Where are you off to? I thought you’d want to play another game.”  
  
“Nah, I’m good,” Tyki said, as he glanced back. “I’m just going to check to make sure Road doesn’t…you know. _Traumatize _Flower Boy.”  
  
Fiidora raised an eyebrow, before shrugging. “Whatever you feel like. It’s not like she’s allowed to kill him or anything.”  
  
“Yes, but I don’t want a repeat of when he first got here,” Tyki pointed out, before his attention shifted to Wisely. Tyki smirked. “I don’t think Wisely does either.”  
  
Wisely huffed, as he recalled a few days ago when Flower Boy had nearly lost it with the fit he had thrown – which had inevitably affected Wisely more than anyone.  
  
Seeing no one was going to say anything further, Tyki left. “See you later,” he said, as he phased through the door.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“I have to go now,” Lala said. “I have a few chores I need to do – I probably shouldn’t hold off on them any longer.”  
  
Alma looked up. He had been tending so some orchids that had appeared a bit tired-looking, and was kneeling beside them. Alma actually had been doing this with most of the plants in the greenhouse; he had been checking on them, making sure they had enough water and enough life pulsating through their stems. Each touch Alma had given had been gentle and with care, with the deity taking his time to attend to each blossom.  
  
Of course, Alma should have known that he couldn’t have kept Lala for too long – especially when they had already been in the greenhouse for nearly an hour.  
  
Alma’s eyes met Lala’s sheepishly. “Ah, sorry – I didn’t really think about what else you had to do before getting carried away here…” he said, as he casted one last glance at the orchids. “We can go back now though.”  
  
Lala looked at Alma, before her attention also shifted to the orchids. “Well…you could stay longer if you’d like,” Lala offered, though there was a slightly wary way in which she spoke. “That’s only if you’d be comfortable going back to your room on your own – do you remember how to get there?”  
  
Alma paused. The thought of wandering the halls alone admittedly made him nervous, and Alma was initially more inclined to simply leave with Lala. Alma wasn’t familiar with the castle, and although the route to the greenhouse hadn’t been too complicated, Alma didn’t know if he had enough confidence in himself to navigate his way back to his room.  
  
However, the thought of going to that room and doing _nothing_…Alma didn’t want to be confined to there.  
  
Alma glanced around the greenhouse, as his thoughts churned. He hadn’t been around any plants or flowers for five days, and he could feel every fiber in his being tugging toward their presence. For the first time since arriving in the Underworld, Alma was actually…okay. He wasn’t happy, but he was okay.  
  
He didn’t want to leave the greenhouse. Not yet, at least.  
  
Decision made, Alma turned back to Lala. His heart beat a bit anxiously as he spoke. “I…I think I’ll be okay going back,” Alma said. “I’d really like to stay here a bit longer.”  
  
Lala nodded. “Alright,” she said, before she smiled at Alma kindly. “Just go down the hall, and up the staircase behind the door with the brass handle. Then two lefts, okay?”  
  
Alma nodded. When Lala spoke the directions aloud, it seemed easy enough. “Okay,” Alma said, as he smiled back.  
  
“I’ll be sure to check on you later this evening when I bring dinner,” Lala said, as she departed. “Enjoy the rest of the greenhouse.”  
  
As Lala left, Alma watched as he was left alone, with the glass doors shutting behind her. He then returned his attention to the orchids, as he did one last check to make sure that they were doing alright.  
  
One small orchid continued to droop, and Alma gently ran his fingers over the stem. In a small, graceful motion the orchid lifted a bit more.  
  
Faintly, a smile formed on Alma’s lips. He could feel the warmth of the orchid’s life, which hummed happily against Alma’s touch.   
  
“There. You should feel a bit better now,” Alma spoke quietly.  
  
There was of course no response. The greenhouse was near silent, save for the soft rush of water coming from the fountain in its center. Because of this, the quietness of the greenhouse was deafening; it loomed about Alma heavily, like a weight that was beginning to press down upon him, and crushing him from above.  
  
In that moment, Alma felt alone.  
  
The emotions came suddenly. Before Alma knew it, any comfort he had felt just moments before had evaporated, disappearing like smoke he had attempted to grasp with his own two hands. It disintegrated, leaving Alma cold and empty – he felt cold and empty despite being surrounded by so many flowers, and despite being beneath a gem-encrusted sky. He felt isolated, cut-off, _lonely_-  
  
He felt lonely.  
  
A tremor rippled through Alma’s chest, as his eyes abruptly began to burn. It wasn’t the same. The greenhouse was lovely with its flowers and lanterns, but it _wasn’t the same_. It wasn’t the same as when Alma was home, surrounded by fresh air and those he cared about most. The nymphs, Fou, his mother and his father…  
  
Alma missed them. He missed them and wanted to see them again.  
  
Vision blurring, Alma balled his hand into a fist, as he remained on the ground beside the orchids. Why? Why had this _happened_? Tyki had said it was because of Alma’s family, but Alma hadn’t done anything – he wasn’t even _involved_ in politics. Had they simply chosen him, because he had been an easy target?   
  
Yes. The answer was yes – how could Alma even deny it? He had been the one to wander to that dead patch that his parents had always advised him to keep away from. He had been the one to take the seed from it, and plant it elsewhere. Like an ignorant child, Alma had walked right into the hands of the Noah – he hadn’t listened to his family, and he had even pushed Fou away when she had just wanted to make sure nothing happened to Alma.  
  
A sharp stab of regret clasped at Alma, so much that he grimaced. Fou. Alma had wanted Fou to leave him alone that day in the meadow. He had pushed back when he shouldn’t have. _‘I shouldn’t have told her to go…’  
  
_Several tears fell onto Alma’s fists, and he suddenly realized he was crying. The realization only frustrated him; Alma was so sick of crying, and he was so exhausted of how _defeated_ he felt. But to Alma’s dismay, this didn’t stop the tears from falling as an unyielding hole continued to gnaw at Alma’s insides..   
  
_‘I just want to go,’_ Alma wanted to shout, though the words remained locked deep inside his heart. _‘Why won’t they just let me _go_?’_  
  
_Click._  
  
Alma looked up, cheeks wet and eyes confused. He glanced around, not sure where the sound had come from. He wasn’t even sure what it _was_ – but Alma could have sworn that he heard something.   
  
_‘Did I…imagine it?’_ Alma wondered, as he looked around the greenhouse-  
  
Alma stilled, as his attention landed on the glass doors. One of them was cracked open slightly.  
  
Alma shifted uneasily, as he quickly wiped his cheeks dry. Had someone come inside? He hadn’t heard any footsteps, but he had seen Lala shut the doors after she left.  
  
“Hello?” Alma asked, as he stood up.   
  
There was only silence, as Alma waited for any kind of response. His eyes remained on the door though, as he watched in anticipation.  
  
Gently, the door pushed open farther.  
  
Alma tensed. He wasn’t sure who – or _what_ – had opened the door, but Alma knew that he wasn’t alone.   
  
Fighting back a shiver, Alma started toward where the glass doors were. He felt uneasy, and could feel his pulse beginning to quicken, but Alma tried not to get ahead of himself.   
  
“Lala?” Alma asked, as took the glass door, pulling it back a bit farther so that he could look into the hallway. “Is that you?”  
  
When Alma looked, he couldn’t see Lala – he couldn’t see _anyone_. The hallway was empty, with not a soul in sight. Everything was so soundless, and so still – Alma couldn’t even think of how he would have missed someone if they were outside.  
  
A bit warily, Alma took a few steps out into the hallway – just as the glass door promptly slammed shut behind him.  
  
Alma jumped. He whirled around with wide eyes, completely taken aback as he stared at the now closed glass doors. Through the fogged glass Alma couldn’t see anyone – he could only see the blurs of the plants inside, with not a person to be seen.  
  
No one that Alma could see, at least.  
  
Alma took a few steps back. By now, any traces of comfort and solace that he had found earlier was gone, and Alma found himself regretting his decision to have remained in the greenhouse. He didn’t know what was going on, but Alma wanted to leave – he wanted to go back to that room, as isolating as it was, and _stay there._  
  
Turning, Alma started to hurry down the hall. He replayed Lala’s directions in his head, as he kept his eyes open for the door with the brass handle. However, Alma had yet to come across it, as he passed through the hallway. The tall windows on each side stretched high above, causing Alma to feel oddly visible, and the hallway seemed to go on for longer than he recalled.  
  
_‘Where’s the door?’_ Alma worried, as he still had yet to find it. By now, he had started to run, with his fears and thoughts beginning to spiral. Alma didn’t even understand why, but he was frightened. There was something cold in the air, something looming – almost as though someone was _watching_ him…  
  
_‘There!’_ Alma realized, as he finally spotted the door. Hurriedly, Alma ran to it, pulling the door open as he rushed inside.  
  
Alma shouted, as he fell into darkness.  
  
In a reflex, Alma threw his arm up, as he tried to grab the edge of the doorframe. However, his hand was just a bit too low; Alma could feel his panic spike as he realized he was falling into some unknown, endless space – somewhere that he _didn’t_ want to end up.   
  
There was a _crack_, as several thick vines burst from the edge of the doorframe, shooting downward. The vines wrapped around Alma’s waist and arm, allowing him to prevent himself from plummeting further, with a sharp _jolt_; Alma could feel his shoulder get yanked a bit, but he kept his focus on the vines so that he wouldn’t slip from their grasp.  
  
Alma heaved a thick, weighty breath. He glanced down, as he peered into what initially appeared to be a void of nothingness. However, as Alma looked, he could see something glint – and to his surprise, he realized that it was water.  
  
_‘What…?’_ Alma thought, completely lost, before he heard something splash.  
  
Down below, Alma caught a glint of something scaly slithering through the water – just as he heard a low, angry hiss.  
  
Alma felt the color drain from his face, as his heart nearly stopped. Something was down there. Something was down there _in the water_.  
  
Alarm coursing throughout Alma, Alma re-focused his attention on the vines. Quickly, he willed them to retract, pulling Alma upward back to the doorframe. Alma could still hear the hissing below though, and Alma grasped at the doorframe once he was close enough, hoisting himself up into the hall and quickly pushing himself from the door.  
  
Alma gasped, as he collapsed onto the ground. His heart was pounding viciously in his chest, and behind him he could hear the vines retract back into the ground. What had even _happened_? Alma had chosen the correct door, hadn’t he?  
  
Before Alma could question himself further, a small peal of laughter danced into his ears – silvery and bell-like. Confusion pooling in Alma’s eyes, he looked up, and was shocked to see that someone was standing in front of him.  
  
A girl. She was a young girl with rich dark skin, and hair the color of plum-tinted onyx. The way in which it was cut was short, and her features were dainty – pixie-like, even. However, her eyes were sharp and cunning, without any trace of innocence within.  
  
Alma also could see her eyes were bright, amber gold – the same eye color that all of the Noah appeared to share.  
  
The girl grinned, as she kept her eyes on Alma. “Nice trick with the vines,” she complimented, though her words lacked any sincerity. “I was hoping you’d fall a bit further though. Kind of disappointing to watch you crawl out of there so easily.”  
  
Alma was stunned, as he attempted register the words. This girl…_she_ had done something?   
  
“W…What?” Alma tried to asked, completely appalled as the realization began to sink in. “You…_you’re_ the one who did that?”  
  
The girl giggled, only further entertained by Alma’s reaction. “Maaaaybe,” she sang, as she placed her hands behind her back. She rolled onto her heels, as she kept her focus on Alma. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. My name’s Road.”  
  
Alma just stared. He didn’t even think to give his name – he didn’t know how to _respond_. All he could do was just remain silent in his shock, as he took in the fact that this girl had _almost killed him_. Alma couldn’t even begin to describe how revolting the thought was, and a surge of heat flared through his veins.  
  
“I...I could have _drowned_!” Alma exclaimed, as he still struggled to fathom how anyone would do such a thing. “How could you do that? There was some _thing_ in there!”  
  
Road rolled her eyes, as she kicked one of her heels. “Oh, don’t be such a baby about it,” she chided, before smiling at Alma sweetly. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you _die_ – maybe struggle for a bit. But nothing more.”  
  
Alma’s fists clenched. He hadn’t even been able to stand yet, with his legs feeling weak after such a fall. It was as though his muscles were liquefied, and his right shoulder ached terribly. His insides felt knotted, and Alma’s pulse refused to slow. But he was so tired, and he was so _sick_ of this all…  
  
Alma didn’t understand why the Noah took such pleasure in tormenting him. Or at least, why it seemed to be that way. Alma had never interacted with the Noah before, and he certainly had never interacted with _Road_ before.  
  
Road bent over, and she looked at Alma with mild interest. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be so sensitive about this,” Road stated “It was just a little prank.”  
  
Alma’s face remained downcast, as his muscles tensed. A prank. Road was going to call it a _prank_…  
  
“Anyways,” Road continued. “You’re a Chang, aren’t you? That just makes it even more entertaining.”  
  
Alma’s head whipped up as soon as he heard his family’s name. His brow furrowed, as he looked at Road bewilderedly. “What do you mean?” Alma began to ask, as he tried to form the words.   
  
Road stood up straight, as she hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know – what do you _think_ I mean?”  
  
Alma’s frown remained. He didn’t understand what Road meant, and frankly, he wasn’t sure if he had the patience for these games of hers. Alma was already pushed to his limit, and he had barely been alone with Road for two minutes.  
  
Alma took a breath, as he tried to keep himself calm. “I don’t know what you’re even talking about,” Alma said, as he sharply averted his gaze. “Can…can you _please_ just fix the door?”  
  
Road pursed her lips, expression a mockery of contemplation. “I’m not sure,” she sighed. “Why should I? It’s pretty rude of you to want to leave so abruptly when we just met.”  
  
Alma’s face turned back to Road, as he opened his mouth to argue.  
  
“Well, well. What’s going on here?”  
  
Road stood upright, as soon as she heard the speaker. She turned, her lips stretching into a wide, bright smile. “Hey, Tyki.”  
  
Alma’s heart jumped a bit as soon as he heard the name. He looked over, and sure enough, he could see Tyki walking from the other end of the hall, dark hair pull back loosely and his eyes a scalding gold, even from afar.   
  
For some reason, Alma caught himself fixating on those eyes.  
  
Tyki stopped, as he approached where Road and Alma were. His eyes briefly flickered over to Alma, who was still on the ground, before Tyki’s attention shifted to Road. “Road, I hope you’re actually being nice,” Tyki said, though his words were more affectionate than chiding. “We’re supposed to be _gentle_ with our guest, remember?”  
  
Road looked at Tyki with feigned innocence. “I _was_ being nice,” Road said, as she smiled adoringly. “We were just having a little fun is all.”  
  
Alma’s head whipped back in Road’s direction, as he glared at her.  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, as he again glanced between Road and Alma. “Maybe you should hold off on too much fun for now,” Tyki suggested, as he focused on Road in particular. “At least with Flower Boy.”  
  
Road rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Tyki, don’t be _boring_ – you’re usually more fun than this,” she said, sounding somewhat displeased.  
  
“I’ll make it up to you,” Tyki said, before his eyes wandered over to Alma. “Anyways, I think Flower Boy is ready to go back to his room, am I right?”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed over to Tyki, and he unexpectedly locked gazes with the Noah. His breath caught in his throat a bit, as Alma’s body remained frozen in place.   
  
Road sighed dramatically. “Fine,” she finally conceded. Road then turned her attention to Alma, as she smiled sweetly. “We’ll have to finish our play time soon.”  
  
As Road spoke this, Alma felt a chill ripple across his skin. He didn’t like the way Road’s words sounded.  
  
Road casted a final glance at Tyki and Alma before grinning. “Bye for now,” she said, before she started to leave, skipping away down the hall as she faded into darkness.  
  
With Road gone, Alma released a breath. Road hadn’t been pleasant to deal with at all, and Alma was already dreading the thought of having to see her again – just what tricks would she try to pull a second time? Alma didn’t want to find out. He didn’t want to _know_.  
  
Tyki turned to Alma. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed that Alma had yet to stand, and looked at the deity questioningly. “You going to just stay on the ground all day?”  
  
Alma’s face flushed in embarrassment. He quickly began to move to get up, but stopped abruptly as Tyki held out his hand.  
  
“Well?” Tyki asked. “You need help?”  
  
Alma hesitated. A small, defiant part of him didn’t want to accept any help – not from any of the Noah, and not even from Tyki. It was a stubborn, childish reaction, but Alma couldn’t help it. After what Road had tried to do, Alma just didn’t…he didn’t _trust_ them. The Noah were cruel, and they were perplexing, and…  
  
…And Tyki was still there, waiting with his hand held out.  
  
There was a pause, and Alma’s eyes warily shifted to meet Tyki’s eyes. He didn’t understand why the Noah would have offered to help him up, but then again, Alma didn’t understand _anything_ about Tyki. He didn’t understand why Tyki was there, or why Tyki had brought Alma food so he wouldn’t starve…  
  
In a flash, Alma found himself thinking to three days ago – when he had last seen Tyki, and when Tyki had brought him food and water.  
  
Still somewhat cautiously, Alma found himself taking Tyki’s hand. He kept his guard up, but could feel Tyki’s grasp clasp into his own, firm and strong before Tyki helped to pull Alma upward-  
  
Alma grimaced, as a sharp pain shot throughout his shoulder.   
  
Staggering, Alma nearly lost his balance again. However, Tyki was quick to catch him, preventing Alma from falling to the ground. A small frown was on the Noah’s face, as he eyed Alma. “Hurt yourself?”  
  
Alma reacted swiftly, as he pushed himself away from Tyki. He gripped his right shoulder, which was throbbing in pain. “I…just pulled my shoulder,” he murmured, as he looked away. “That’s all.”  
  
Tyki looked at Alma curiously, as he crossed his arms. “How’d you do that?” he asked. “Figured after your first few days here you’d have taken things easy.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed, as he scowled at Tyki. “I did it because I was trying to keep from _falling_,” Alma bit back, his patience once more drawing thin. “Road nearly sent me into some weird void of _water_ – I could have drowned, and there was even some kind of _monster_ in there!”  
  
Tyki blinked, before he registered what Alma was saying. Then, to Alma’s annoyance, Tyki snickered. “So that’s what she did? Damn. I really will need to make sure she tones it down when first meeting people.”  
  
Alma’s cheeks reddened, as his eyes flashed in anger. Was Tyki really going to _laugh_ about this?   
  
Tyki’s laughter died, as he quickly took note of Alma’s incensed expression. “Alright, alright. It probably wasn’t _that_ funny – to you.”  
  
The words did little to ease Alma, and only aggravated him more. He scowled, expression pout-like as he opened his mouth to argue – but was swiftly stunned into silence as Tyki placed a hand on his shoulder.   
  
Immediately, Alma felt the urge to jerk back. However, Tyki stopped him, as he spoke aloud.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Tyki reassured, as his eyes flickered to meet Alma’s. “I’m just seeing how bad it is.”  
  
Alma’s frown remained, expression tense. He watched as Tyki observed his shoulder for a moment, before he ran a hand over the edge. Very carefully, Tyki pressed down, before his eyes shifted to Alma’s face. “How’s that feel?”  
  
Alma wavered. It was tender, but not the most painful spot. “Fine…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything at first, before he moved his hand more toward Alma’s arm, just below where the joint was. Once more, he pressed down.  
  
Alma winced. “Ow!”  
  
Tyki pulled his hand away. “Looks like it’s concentrated in that spot,” he said. “Don’t do anything reckless, and you should be okay in a week or two. Sound good?”  
  
Alma rubbed his shoulder, as he raised his gaze to meet Tyki’s. There was an untrusting look in his eyes, and for a fleeting second, Alma thought of rushing away from the Noah. However, something tugged at his insides – something that nipped a strand of intrigue and curiosity in his heart, which kept him still.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Alma asked, still confused as to why Tyki had bothered to help Alma, let alone urge Road to go elsewhere.  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, I live here for one.”  
  
Alma quickly grew flustered by the response. “That’s _not_ what I meant!” Alma emphasized, though on some level he knew that Tyki was probably trying to get a rise out of him. “Just…what are you doing _here_? Did you…know Road was coming?”  
  
“Would it matter?” Tyki asked. “I was around. Saw she was with you. Wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything too extreme. She can be quite playful when she wants to be.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma huffed quietly. _Playful_ wasn’t exactly the word that he would have used to describe Road…  
  
Tyki eyed Alma, smirk still in place. “I see _you_ got out though. Finally get tired of being in your room?”  
  
Alma floundered a bit, as he struggled to respond. He looked away, still rubbing his shoulder slightly. “I just wanted to get out for a bit,” Alma said, words coming out in something a mumble. “Lala told me about the greenhouse, and I wanted to see it…”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “I’m not surprised that’s where you’d want to go of all places,” he said. “But good. I did tell you that you could walk around more.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he continued to keep his eyes averted. There Tyki went, once more emphasizing that Alma could walk around as he pleased. Honestly, Alma felt anything _but_ this way. He had been fine when Lala had been accompanying him, but once he had been left alone…  
  
Alma didn’t have the freedom to walk around freely. He didn’t have the freedom to walk around safely.  
  
When Alma didn’t respond, Tyki looked at Alma curiously. “_Do_ you want to walk around more?”  
  
Alma’s head snapped up, as his expression grew bewildered. Alma shook his head, as he looked off to the side. “No…no, I just want to go back to my room,” he said, still unable to forget the _prank_ that Road had pulled.   
  
Tyki shifted his weight from one foot to the other, before he spoke. “I’ll take you back there.”  
  
The words startled Alma, and he found himself growing more perplexed by the second. “What?” he asked, as he turned back to Tyki. “No, I can go myself-“  
  
“Can you?” Tyki asked. His tone held the faintest hint of a challenge, as he locked his molten-colored eyes with Alma’s sky blue ones. “I mean, if you _really _think you can find your way back, by all means, feel free to go.”  
  
Alma immediately faltered. He had been determined up until Tyki had spoken, with Alma now questioning himself. Could he get back to his room? Lala had told him the directions, but Alma had gotten so turned around with Road, and the _door_-  
  
The door.  
  
Alma paled, as soon as he remembered the door that Road had changed. Had she changed it back? Or was Alma going to have to find another way? _Could_ he find another way?   
  
Alma didn’t know. He had no idea of to navigate the rest of the castle, and the thought of doing such alone was…overwhelming.  
  
The air around them remained silent, as Alma and Tyki stood there in the dimly lit hall. Tyki never once allowed his eyes to stray from Alma though, as he continued to observe the boy. He watched, as Alma’s previous defiance began to diminish, with his expression turning more helpless as the realization dawned on him: Alma had no idea how to get back to his room.  
  
Tyki smirked. “Your silence is telling.”  
  
Alma blushed. He felt rather foolish for having been so argumentative, when he clearly had no idea what he was doing.   
  
Tyki chuckled lowly, as he walked past Alma. He stopped at the door that Alma had tried to go in previously, and placed his hand on the handle.  
  
Alma turned, somewhat alarmed when he saw Tyki opening the door. “Wait-“  
  
Tyki didn’t listen, as he opened the door with ease. Behind it, Alma could see the spiral staircase that he and Lala had descended together on their way to the greenhouse.  
  
Tyki looked back at Alma. “Coming?”  
  
Alma hesitated. He saw the staircase, but still felt unsure. However, Tyki was there, with a somewhat expectant look in his eyes as he awaited Alma’s reaction.  
  
With no options left, Alma approached where Tyki was, before following the Noah through the door.  
  
They started to walk after that, with Tyki leading the way. Alma remained only a few steps behind him, silent as he continued to follow Tyki. Alma’s eyes would periodically wander about – perhaps to the torches that danced against the darkness, or the shadows that snaked high up onto the walls.  
  
Occasionally, his attention would then flicker to Tyki.  
  
With curious eyes, Alma stared. He watched Tyki from behind, noting the Noah’s languid posture and casual demeanor. Like the last time Alma had seen him, he was dressed strangely, yet informally; his dark locks hung loosely as several strands fell free from his ponytail, and the fabric of his clothing were rumpled and worn. It was a strange sight to Alma. He had always been told that the Noah were so ancient and fierce – _dangerous_, too. Yet, when Alma looked at Tyki…  
  
Tyki wasn’t what Alma had expected.   
  
Exiting into the hallway, they continued on. Tyki had not once said anything to Alma – something of which Alma was actually a bit grateful for. While he normally was someone who preferred to chatter, he wasn’t sure what conversation he could have possibly had with Tyki.  
  
After a bit longer of walking, the halls soon began to look a bit familiar to Alma. He gradually began to remember where they were, and soon enough, he could even see the door to his room up head.  
  
Alma breathed a small sigh of relief. He hadn’t thought he would be glad to be back in that room, but he was for now.  
  
Tyki stopped, just outside the front of the door. “There you are,” he said, as he motioned to the door. “Not so painful having an escort, was it?”  
  
Alma could feel the heat once more return to his cheeks, as Tyki’s words somehow flustered him yet again. Alma quickly broke eye contact, as his eyes wandered to the door. “I…guess not,” Alma said, supposing that it hadn’t been _horrible_. Strange, yes. But horrible…not so much.  
  
“Um, thanks…for showing me the way back,” Alma said, somewhat awkwardly.   
  
Tyki flashed a charming smile, as his eyes lingered on Alma. “No problem. I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” he said, the suggestion falling from his lips in an almost playful manner. “If you liked the greenhouse, I can always go back with you – Road may keep a bit more at bay if I’m around.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed up to Tyki’s, as he opened his mouth to speak. However, he closed his shut, as confusion filled his gaze.  
  
“Why…why would you want to do that?” Alma asked, unable to speak anything else.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?” Tyki questioned back, as he leaned against the doorframe. “I like flowers too, you know.”  
  
Alma shook his head. “That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Alma tried to clarify, as he looked at Tyki warily. “Just…this. The food. I don’t understand why…you care?”  
  
Tyki blinked, and for a moment he didn’t answer. He looked a bit caught off guard, even somewhat dumbfounded by the question.  
  
Then, Tyki laughed.  
  
It was a relaxed, melodious sound – once that reminded Alma of rich velvet and chocolate. However, Alma couldn’t allow himself to linger on the pleasantness of the sound, as the reality quickly struck him: Tyki was laughing _at _him.  
  
Quickly, Tyki composed himself. He looked back at Alma, as his eyes still glimmered with a hint of amusement. “That’s actually kind of cute,” he said, tone light – lighter than what felt right to hear. Tyki collected himself a bit more, as he met Alma’s gaze. “But like I said before: you’re more valuable alive than dead. So we have to take care of you to some extent, right?”  
  
Alma was silent. Somehow, the words had been a slap in the face. Tyki didn’t care about Alma – Tyki only cared about making sure Alma was kept _alive_. It was something that was so painfully obvious, too, and Alma immediately hated himself for having even suggested otherwise to Tyki.   
  
Foolish. Naïve. God, Alma didn’t know why he had thought otherwise. He didn’t know why he had _said anything._  
  
He didn’t know why Tyki’s words were bothering him so much.  
  
“Also,” Tyki said, as his eyes gleamed brightly. “You _are_ kind of entertaining to be around…”  
  
Alma’s face swiftly turned, as he made eye contact with the Noah. This time, however, there was something brimming in Alma’s eyes: a spark amongst sky blue, that was more heated than normal.  
  
Abruptly, Alma turned as he walked into his room.  
  
Tyki pushed himself off the doorframe, as he watched Alma with a slightly confused look. “Um…?”  
  
Before Tyki could get another word in, Alma whirled around to slam the door in Tyki’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there was a chapter that gave me Beauty and the Beast vibes, it was probably this one. Because Alma had spent so much time isolating himself, I wanted to give him some kind of outlet. Having Lala definitely helps since she’s so kind to Alma, but I liked the idea of incorporating a greenhouse for Alma to go to. It’s like that one ray of light he’s managing to find in the darkness, and it was a good way to get him out of that damn room.
> 
> Of course, Road comes in to ruin whatever comfort Alma is finding. It was only a matter of time before he met her, and I was glad to introduce Road a bit more in this chapter. It was a pretty cruel trick she played on Alma, but how else would she have introduced herself? XD
> 
> This did pave the way for Tyki coming in, and him and Alma having a little more interaction. Their relationship is interesting to write; Tyki goes back and forth on whether he seems genuine, and Alma just can’t make sense of it, even to where he starts to wonder if Tyki is helping out of some actual good will. (Naturally, Tyki has to say something to indicate otherwise and upset Alma further - he probably did deserve getting a door slammed in his face.)
> 
> It’s slow, but more development between those two is coming up in the next chapter. ;3 (Which, as a side note, I officially finished the epilogue for Dark Flower - and it’s a grand total of 30 chapters. So we have 16 to go. XD)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave any comments of feedback. :3


	15. A Garden Respite

_Hiss. Scratch. Hiss._  
  
There was a _clang_, as a pair of claws scraped and clawed against the prison walls. Rock, stone, gems – the walls were hard, and uneven. Dark. Cold. The varying textures jutted out, sometimes sharp and other times dull. But they were unyielding all the same: unbreakable, and impenetrable.   
  
The perfect prison for the akuma.  
  
The akuma didn’t always need to be placed there – not all of them, at least. Those lower level, shrivels of dark matter and forsaken souls could be left to wander, too dumb and too thoughtless to do anything more than crawl about aimlessly. And the higher akuma – they were competent. They could at least function, blending in like members of refined society if need be, with the control over the bloodlust ironclad and solid.  
  
The akuma in between, however – they _were _different. They were the akuma who could think for themselves just enough to know that they needed to survive, but they were also the ones that had become so bloodthirsty that they were ravaged and desperate to kill, their instincts overpowering any rationale they harbored.  
  
The Noah couldn’t let _those_ akuma wander. Not without careful control.  
  
The akuma hissed, their snarls hostile as their hunger gnawed at them from the inside out, pushing them to be devoid of their rationale and further heightening their animalistic tendencies. Their claws continued to clash against the stony interior of their prison, with some even going as far as to climb to the top – just as they reached the iron bars in the ceiling.  
  
When the akuma scratched at the bars, sparks of fire flew, scalding the akuma.  
  
Sheril watched them. He looked down, standing at the edge of where the barred opening began. Within the darkness, he could see glints of metal and seared slabs of leathery flesh; they thrashed about in the darkness, like nightmarish glimpses of untold terrors.  
  
It was a pathetic thing to witness.  
  
The sound of footsteps reached Sheril’s ears, steady and even. However, Sheril didn’t bother to acknowledge the visitor, as his acidic, yellow eyes remained on the imprisoned akuma.  
  
Tyki walked over to where Sheril was. As always, he had a casual air about him – somewhat careless, and without much thought. An oddly neutral look remained on Tyki’s features though, which only shifted when his eyes flickered to the akuma in their prison in the ground. At that moment, something shifted in Tyki’s eyes, with an icy shadow passing over his expression.  
  
In an instant, it was gone.  
  
Tyki re-focused, as he looked back at Sheril. “What did you want?” he asked. “I figured you’d be getting collected by the marked deity any minute now.”  
  
Sheril still didn’t turn, as his attention remained on the akuma. “They’re quite wretched, aren’t they?” he asked, words even and mild with bitterness. “Many of them used to have more intelligence. Now they’ve started to regress.”  
  
Tyki frowned. He took a few steps closer to where Sheril was standing, as he too glanced down. Coolly, Tyki stared, as he observed the akuma beneath the barred ground.  
  
“Can’t blame them,” Tyki said, tone nonchalant. “They weren’t exactly designed to be barred up like that without anything to devour. I’m surprised they haven’t resorted to cannibalism yet.”  
  
Not but a moment after the words left Tyki’s lip, an earth-shattering screech could be heard, followed by an unpleasant _crunch_. Limbs could be heard snapping, and several akuma could be heard shrieking angrily.  
  
Sheril turned to Tyki, eyebrow raised. “You were saying?”  
  
Tyki shrugged, as he crossed his arms. “Guess it was only a matter of time.”  
  
Sheril exhaled. “Seems so,” he said, before his eyes flickered back to Tyki. “Speaking of…it seems you’re still wasting a bit of excessive time and energy on our house guest.”  
  
Tyki blinked, as he looked at Sheril questioningly. His lips then quirked upward, as an amused glimmer appeared in his eyes. “What, because I interrupted the play date that Road was trying to have with him yesterday? I only cut in to make sure she didn’t accidentally kill him – figured it’d only make your _negotiating_ more difficult when dealing with the Order.”  
  
Nose crinkling in annoyance, Sheril’s expression remained distasteful. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Sheril clipped. “You’re wasting the use of an ark door to bring him food from the above realm, when you should have already slipped him something from here.”  
  
Tyki snorted. “Seriously? He was going to starve himself to death. I did us a favor,” he stated. “Anyways, I already gave him my word I’d keep up with it, so-“  
  
“You shouldn’t have,” Sheril cut off, as his words came out in a way that almost resembled a snake-like hiss. “That was leverage that would have been better for me to have prior to meeting with the Order, and you know better than to waste your words on some Chang.”  
  
Tyki fought an eye roll, and he sighed. “Stop getting all twisted up over it – you’re acting like I did it to spite you,” Tyki said, before he made eye contact with his brother. “Flower Boy was going to be a pain, and now he’s finally cooperating some more. Even Lord Millennium agrees it was a good decision.”  
  
Sheril’s expression remained hard. He couldn’t argue much further – not when Lord Millennium _had_ decided to side with Tyki on the matter. However, that did little to ease Sheril’s displeasure as a spark of something scalding flashed in his eyes.   
  
Immediately, Tyki noticed. His own gaze remained unwavering as he never once looked away from his brother, his mouth stretching into a grin. “Don’t look so angry,” Tyki spoke. “I’m just making sure our guest is well taken care of – it _would _look pretty badly on us if we let anything happen to him.”  
  
Sheril’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t take care of him _too _well,” Sheril warned, words cold. “He’s a _Chang_ – he isn’t like some mortal pet for you to play with.”  
  
As soon as the words left Sheril’s lips, something in Tyki’s eyes flashed. It was a swift, startling change, as something notably _dark_ passed over Tyki’s features.  
  
Sheril didn’t say anything, as he and Tyki remained at an impasse. Neither of the Noah blinked, with both of them staring each other down.  
  
Finally, Tyki spoke. “Better get off to the front gate,” he suggested, words notably sharp. “Don’t want to keep that marked deity waiting.”  
  
Sheril smiled, eyes gleaming. “Of course.”  
  
Tyki remained silent, as he watched Sheril turned to depart. However, before Sheil left the chamber, he glanced back at Tyki one final time.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Sheril called back. “I’ll be sure to let the Order know how _well taken care of_ our guest is.”  
  
Tyki didn’t respond, his eyes icy as he watched Sheril depart.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“How is your shoulder feeling today?” Lala asked, as she placed down some folded clothing on the edge of the bed. “Have you had any trouble with it?”  
  
Alma looked over, and he shook his head. “No, it’s better today,” he said, as he remained seated on the divan by the window. “I just pulled it a bit yesterday, so as long as I don’t do anything else to it, I think it’ll be fine.”  
  
Lala nodded. However, her expression soon turned apologetic, as she looked back at Alma. “I really am sorry about what happened yesterday…I shouldn’t have l left you alone like that.”  
  
Alma shifted, as he faced Lala more directly. “It’s not your fault,” Alma reassured her. “Really – you didn’t know anything was going to happen.”  
  
Lala nodded, though a penitent glimmer remained in her one visible eye. Carefully, she started to rearrange the folded clothing. “It’s a good thing Lord Tyki came when he did,” she said, as she went to put some of the clothing away in the dark wooden dresser in Alma’s room. “At least he was able to intervene, and escort you back.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as his attention flickered off to the side. A somewhat sharp sensation flared through him, as an unusually bitter taste nipped at the tip of his tongue.   
  
_“You’re more valuable alive than dead. So we have to take care of you to some extent, right?”_  
  
The words echoed in Alma’s mind, as the previous day’s events replayed in his memory. Valuable. Tyki had only bothered to help because he was _valuable_.   
  
Lala glanced back, as she noticed how quiet Alma had gone. She finished folding some linen, and placed it into the dresser. “I…did hear something earlier,” she said, before she turned around. “Lord Sheril is being escorted to meet with the Order.”  
  
Alma looked over, as his interest was piqued. “What?” he asked, as he swiftly registered what Lala had just said. “I mean…do you know why? Do you think it has anything to do with my family?”  
  
Lala paused thoughtfully. “I can’t say for certain, but I think it could be. I only overheard one of the Noah making a comment about how displeased the Order was.”  
  
As Lala spoke this, Alma felt his insides lurch hopefully. His family. His family must have finally been able to do something – maybe the _Order_ would finally do something. Maybe Alma could finally leave, and he wouldn’t have to stay in the Underworld anymore. Maybe Allen would come, and be able to escort him back-  
  
Allen.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened. “Allen!” he exclaimed, as the realization slammed into him like a slab of stone. He urgently looked at Lala, eyes pleading. “Has he come yet? The deity who escorts the Noah to and from the Underworld! Is he here?”  
  
Somewhat startled, Lala wavered. he had been a bit caught off guard by Alma’s outburst, but tried to answer. “I…I’m honestly not sure,” she admitted. “I know Sheril was preparing to leave soon-“  
  
“Can you find out?” Alma pressed. “If Allen’s here, maybe I can talk to him – he can let my family know I’m here!”  
  
Once again, Lala hesitated. She shifted a bit, looking rather uncertain as she tried to form a response. “Alma, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find him – he could have already left with Sheril,” she started to explain. “I’ve never even spoken to him before-“  
  
“_Please_, Lala?” Alma begged, as he looked at her desperately. “I just need a_ minute_ with him – it won’t even take that long!”   
  
Lala remained quiet. She could feel herself leaning toward her own reservation, though it was difficult to do so – especially when Alma was looking at her in such a pleading way.  
  
Unable to refuse, Lala exhaled. “Let me see what I can find out,” she said, before she met Alma’s gaze directly. “I think you should wait here – but I’ll hurry, alright?”  
  
Alma nodded eagerly. "Yes, I understand! Thank you!” he gushed, his heart somersaulting in his chest anxiously.  
  
“I can’t promise anything,” Lala reminded Alma. However, before parting, she offered a small smile. “I’ll be back soon.”  
  
Lala turned to leave after that, with Alma watching as the door closed behind her.   
  
Not a second had passed before Alma stood, as he quickly began to rummage through the room. There was a desk near one of the other windows, of which Alma hurried to first; he quickly opened the drawers, looking for any paper or any sort of writing utensils. He had opened two before he finally found one drawer with some parchment, and in another drawer was a pen and some ink.   
  
Hurriedly, Alma took the items out as he placed them onto the desk. He grabbed one sheet of parchment as he sat down, his mind racing.   
  
A letter. He needed to write a letter.  
  
Taking the pen and ink, Alma blanked as he stared at the parchment. His mother. His father. If he had a chance to see Allen, he could ask Allen to deliver a message – he could ask Allen to deliver a message to his family.   
  
But, Alma needed to _write _something first. It should have been easy – the words should have poured from his fingertips and onto the page. They should have gushed out uncontrollably, and without a hitch.  
  
Yet Alma was just…_staring_. He realized he didn’t know what to write. Should he apologize to his parents? Yes, probably – but should he reassure them things were okay? Well, things _weren’t_ okay, but Alma didn’t want them to be beside themselves…  
  
Alma ran his hands over his face as he exhaled. He could feel himself growing anxious; he didn’t know when Lala would return, and if she were able to find Allen, then Alma needed to have a letter _ready_. He needed to start writing.  
  
As he tried took get a grip on his nerves, Alma took the pen. His eyes rested on the parchment for a few more seconds, before he started writing.  
  
_…I’m really sorry….  
  
…I’m doing okay! I really am….  
  
…I’m writing this for Allen to give you…  
  
….I really miss you all…  
  
_Alma paused, as he stared at the last line he had written. In his heart, he felt a stab of pain. _‘I miss them so much…’_  
  
There was a knock at the door, causing Alma to jump. He glanced back toward the door. “J-just a second!” he called, as he quickly returned to writing. Had Lala already come back? Alma didn’t know, but he suddenly was consumed by urgency as he continued to scribble words onto the parchment.  
  
_‘Hurry,’_ Alma told himself, as he bit the inside of his cheek. _‘Hurry up, and _write_-‘_  
  
“What are you writing?” a smooth voice asked, rich and low as it hummed against Alma’s ear.  
  
Alma shouted in surprise, as he whirled around to stand. He nearly knocked over the ink bottle. Clumsily, Alma tried to catch it, just barely managing to spare the letter from getting destroyed.  
  
A low chuckle could be heard, and Alma turned, glaring as his eyes landed on Tyki. “I didn’t say you could come in!”  
  
Tyki snickered. His eyes glistened with amusement, as he placed a hand on his hip. “You were taking forever to answer – and I _did_ bother to knock this time,” Tyki noted, before his eyes flickered over to the parchment on the desk. “But what was it that you were so fervently writing? A letter to your family?”  
  
Alma tensed. He remained backed against the desk, with Tyki eying him expectantly. Alma could feel his heart thud loudly, as he reached behind him to where the letter was.   
  
“It-it’s none of your business,” Alma said, as he tried to conceal the letter from Tyki’s view. “It’s not for you!”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, the amusement never once diminishing in his expression. “Oh?” he questioned. “And just who will read it? You don’t have a way to actually send it anywhere.”  
  
Alma floundered, as his response flew from his lips. “Yes, I do!” he argued, before his error slapped him back in the face.   
  
Tyki crossed his arms, as he tilted his head to the side. “Really?” he asked, before a grin stretched across his face. “And just what _is _this method? Having that marked deity _Allen Walker_ take it?”  
  
Mouth hanging open, Alma stared. “You – you _read_ it!” Alma accused, realizing that Tyki must have read the letter when looking over his shoulder. “That was private!”  
  
A scoff escaped Tyki, as he remained calm. “Stop whining – I only glanced at it a little. Enough to put together that you were going to have Allen take it,” Tyki explained. Another smirk tugged at his lips, as he gave Alma a knowing look. “Not that it’ll work – the marked deity’s already gone, along with my brother.”  
  
As soon as the words reached his ears, Alma felt his heart drop. His anger dissipated, like a candle being snuffed out; in its place, Alma could feel disappointment take hold.   
  
“He…he already left?” Alma asked, the words coming out in more of a choke.  
  
“He did – came and went just like that,” Tyki said, as he snapped his fingers right in front of Alma’s face, causing the younger deity to flinch. “Not that it would have made a difference. Did you really think you’d be able to send a letter and not have any of us notice?”  
  
Alma’s hands gripped the edge of the desk, as he leaned back against it. Already, the failure of his plan was beginning to sink in, just as the hope of being able to communicate with his family crumbled to dust. Alma should have known though – he should have known that it wouldn’t have been easy.  
  
Gritting his teeth, Alma’s eyes flashed heatedly in Tyki’s direction. “You could at the very least let me send _something_,” he argued. “You’re already keeping me locked up here!”  
  
Tyki laughed. “Still going on about being trapped? Geez, you know you can walk around,” Tyki said, brushing off Alma’s complaint. “That’s why I came – I wanted to see if you’d want to get out for a bit.”  
  
Alma stilled, for a moment being thrown off by Tyki’s offer. However, he quickly shook himself free of his blankness, and his brow furrowed in wariness. “I can get back to the greenhouse myself if I want to go there,” he spoke, words coming out in a rush. “Lala can just go with me later.”  
  
“I know she can,” Tyki said, as his eyes locked with Alma’s. “But she can’t take you _outside_.”  
  
Again, Alma felt himself go quiet. He was admittedly confused – Alma couldn’t go outside at all with the binding the Noah had placed on his ankle, so why would Tyki even bring it up?  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted downward. The golden band was slightly visible, with the fabric of his chiton just ending around it. As Alma glanced at it, a sharp, unpleasant _pang _pierced his chest – one that was both disheartening and demeaning.   
  
Tyki noticed this. As a result, his focus briefly flickered to the anklet that Alma was wearing, before he spoke again. “Technically, you can go outside – _if_ a Noah lets you,” he explained, before he looked back at Alma. “You just wouldn’t be able to go without someone accompanying you.”  
  
Alma glanced back up. He was still wary, and unsure; Alma just didn’t understand why Tyki was bringing this up, let alone now. “You…didn’t tell me this before,” Alma said slowly, words holding a hint of distrust.  
  
“Well, you _did _slam the door in my face yesterday – I didn’t get a chance to,” Tyki pointed out. “Which, I still am wondering why you did that. Did I somehow offend you?”  
  
Alma’s face flushed, as he recalled the day before. Like a droplet of acidic, Alma recalled Tyki’s comments from the day prior, and felt an annoying sting in his chest.   
  
“Why does it matter?” Alma questioned, tone turning defensive. “You certainly don’t care – you’re only interested in keeping me alive because I’m _valuable_!”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, as intrigue glimmered in his eyes. “So, that’s what it was?” Tyki questioned. “I’m flattered – didn’t realized it mattered so much to you what I thought.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma could feel his face heat even more up as a blush colored his cheeks. He was immediately flustered by how Tyki had so easily twisted his words, as though Alma would have actually _cared_ about what Tyki would think. It was a completely ludicrous idea, and Alma could feel himself beginning to lose his patience with the Noah.   
  
As Alma struggled to keep his composure, Tyki watched. He looked thoroughly entertained by how easily frazzled Alma had become, as his eyes glistened with laughter. “Don’t lose your head just yet,” Tyki warned. “At least, not until you answer me.”  
  
Alma scowled, expression pout-like. “Answer _what_?” Alma asked. “All you’re doing is teasing me!”  
  
Tyki chuckled, before he smiled at Alma charmingly. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go outside with me,” Tyki stated. “Unless you’d rather wait for the doll girl to return – you can finish that letter that’ll never get sent anywhere.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. Although there had been an implication of Tyki’s intent, it wasn’t until the Noah said anything that it really sank in for Alma. He was a bit dumbfounded, with his previous anger faltering – it disintegrated swiftly, with Alma’s mind suddenly wavering.  
  
Outside. Alma hadn’t been outside in over a week. He had only been inside, with the closest he had gotten to escaping the indoor imprisonment being that of the greenhouse. Honestly, Alma’s heart leapt at the thought of having a chance to walk outside. It would have been dark, but it would have been _something_…  
  
Alma just didn’t know how he felt about Tyki being the one to make it possible.  
  
Alma shifted, as he looked away from Tyki. As he did, his eyes happened to move to one of the windows, where the dark sky loomed enticingly. However, Alma could still feel the golden band on his anklet, and his hope threatened to crumble.  
  
Alma bit his lip, before he turned to Tyki. “How do I know you’re not tricking me?”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “You don’t,” he stated simply. “But I can tell you I’m not – just thought I’d try to make amends for offending you yesterday.”  
  
Alma stared, gaze cautious. He didn’t like how Tyki did this – how Tyki could appear so _straightforward_. It made things confusing for Alma. Tyki had already done several things to Alma’s benefit, yet at the same time, Tyki had made it clear he didn’t care about Alma. So why was Tyki doing this _now_?   
  
Alma certainly didn’t believe it was to make amends, but the thought of going outside was tempting. Too tempting.  
  
Tyki waited, before he prompted Alma. “Well?” he asked. “Do you want to come or not?”  
  
Tyki’s prodding caused something to break within Alma. He caved, as he looked up at Tyki. “I want to go,” he said, words spilling forward quickly. “I…want to go outside. For a little bit..”  
  
Tyki’s grin broadened, as he appeared pleased with the answer. “We should get a move on then,” Tyki suggested. “I can only imagine how badly you’re itching to get outside after being indoors for a week.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered to meet Tyki’s. Tyki had already turned though, as he walked to the door to open it.  
  
Tyki glanced back, as he remained in the doorway. He noticed that Alma hadn’t moved an inch, and looked at Alma questioningly. “Coming?”  
  
Alma pushed himself away from the desk, leaving the unfinished letter behind.  
  
Tyki waited until Alma caught up. He didn’t say anything, as he started to walk down the hallway as Alma remained in tow.   
  
Alma only made it a few steps, before he seemed to realize something. “Wait!” he said, causing the silence of the hallway to abruptly shatter.  
  
Tyki stopped walking, and glanced back at Alma curiously.  
  
Trying to compose himself, Alma wrung his hands together. “I…Lala was going to come back soon,” he began to explain. “I asked her to look for Allen, and if she comes back, she might worry about where I am-“  
  
Tyki blinked, before he understood. A half-smile appeared on his face. “That’s sweet how considerate you are,” he noted smoothly. “But I think Lala will be fine. You can tell her what happened later.”  
  
The words were spoken simply and caused Alma to feel somewhat silly. Had it been strange that he was concerned about worrying Lala? It seemed like common courtesy to Alma, but with how Tyki had reacted, he found himself feeling a bit self-conscious.  
  
Remaining quiet, Alma began to follow Tyki as they continued down the hallway. Tyki led, with Alma staying a step or two behind; he didn’t really know what direction Tyki would take to go outside, and he wasn’t sure what to say to Tyki. Would the Noah expect any conversation to come out of this? Tyki seemed to be rather conversational at times, but Alma just wasn’t certain.  
  
As if on cue, Tyki glanced back toward Alma. His gaze returned forward, as he spoke. “You always tell people where you’re going?” Tyki asked. “You seem pretty worried about it.”  
  
Alma looked up. “Of course I do,” he answered, without missing a beat. “My family always taught me I should…”  
  
“Ah, right,” Tyki said. “That’s why you were writing the letter?”  
  
There was a small pause on Alma’s part. However, he answered as he continued to follow Tyki. “Well, yeah…I’ve never been away from home and they’ll worry…”  
  
“Well, I can assure you that they _know_ where you are,” Tyki said, as he spared another grin in Alma’s direction. “So you don’t have to worry about being such a diligent child here.”  
  
A small scowl tugged at Alma’s lips. “I’m not a _child,_” he clarified.   
  
Tyki laughed, a low and melodious sound. “Maybe not technically, but you definitely _act_ like one,” he pointed out. “Probably not your fault though – I mean, your family doesn’t let you go anywhere? Can’t imagine how sheltered you must be.”  
  
“I’m not _sheltered_,” Alma argued, as he quickly grew incensed. “My parents were protective, but that’s it – they still taught me things!”  
  
“Learning isn’t experiencing,” Tyki noted, as he stopped walking. He turned around, as he faced Alma with a challenging gaze. “And just what have you experienced, living in some little meadow your whole life? I bet you’ve never even been anywhere else.”  
  
Alma balked, before he attempted to recover. “I’ve been to the Acropolis!” he retorted, bristling at Tyki’s accusation. “I got to visit the same time you did!”  
  
Tyki was hardly impressed. “And you were there for _how_ long?” Tyki challenged. “From what I heard, you were only there for not even a full day.”  
  
Mouth clamping shut, Alma’s ears burned.  
  
Tyki smirked, triumphant as his point was made. He turned back around and kept walking. “Like I said – _sheltered._”  
  
Alma huffed, as he crossed his arms. Tyki’s comments had completely put him off, so much that Alma almost wanted to walk away; however, the promise of being allowed outside hung in Alma’s memory, and after a small pause Alma continued walking.  
  
_‘Sheltered…I’m not sheltered…’_ Alma silently pouted. Well, he hadn’t seen or experienced much – that was true. And Alma’s parents had always been rather wary of allowing Alma to do much of anything…  
  
As Alma thought this, his flicker of annoyance snuffed out. Maybe he _was_ a little sheltered.  
  
Their walk fell into another pool of silence as they continued on. Alma’s eyes wandered about, taking in the different ways the halls twisted and turned. Truthfully, Alma had no idea _how_ the Noah were able to get around. Every hall looked the same, and every corridor was dark…  
  
Alma could never get used to a place like this.  
  
As they rounded the corner, Alma noticed a slight shift in the appearance of the hallway they had entered. All along the walls were symbols – they were dark, and easy to miss, engraved into the stone walls and only faintly illuminated by the flickering torch flames.   
  
Before he could stop himself, Alma’s eyes wandered to the symbols. They looked archaic, though Alma didn’t have the faintest idea as to what they meant; they were a lettering similar to what had been in some of the books in Alma’s bedroom, which could have only meant that it must have been some language that the Noah knew.   
  
_‘They…look so strange…’_ Alma thought, as he paused just beside the wall. His eyes fixated on a few symbols in particular, as a peculiar pull tugged at his insides.  
  
Tearing his gaze from the symbols, Alma turned back to where Tyki was. The Noah continued walking, not having realized that Alma had stopped, and Alma returned his focus to the symbols.  
  
Again, Alma felt a pull.  
  
Somewhat tentatively, Alma brought his hand up. There was a slight shakiness to his hand, but he ignored it, just as he allowed his fingertips to brush against one of the symbols.  
  
Abruptly, Alma’s vision went black.  
  
_He had no idea what happened. One minute he was there, in the hallway following Tyki, and the next he was somewhere else. He was somewhere dark, and it was cold…  
  
Glass shattering. A child screaming. They sounded so young, and the sound was so familiar – but Alma didn’t know who they were. He was frightened though. He was scared, despite not understanding why.  
  
More shouting. More familiar voices. Alma could hear his parents calling for him, but he couldn’t see them, and he was suddenly aware of being pinned on his back-  
  
There was something looming over him. Something that he couldn’t see._  
  
_“You weren’t meant for the light…”_  
  
Alma gasped, as he opened his eyes. He staggered back from the wall, nearly losing his balance in the process. Alma managed to catch himself though, his expression alarmed as his gaze flickered back to the wall.   
  
Upon it, several of the symbols were glowing. t was just the few that Alma had touched; the previously dull etchings now illuminated with a strange, ultraviolet color – one that was quickly beginning to fade.  
  
Somewhat shocked, Alma stared dumbfoundedly. Had…had he done something? He looked down at his hands. Alma had only _touched_ it for moment-  
  
Alma froze.   
  
His fingertips. As Alma looked at his fingertips, he could see that the same, ultraviolet light was trickling beneath his skin. It was only the tips of his fingers, with the light spilling outward like thin, vein-like tendrils. The light glowed and illuminated, with the tendrils twisting for a few seconds longer…  
  
Then, the light died.  
  
Alma stared. He felt shaky, but otherwise felt…okay? He _thought _he was okay – he didn’t feel any different than he had earlier.   
  
Closing his hands into fists, Alma looked around. He wondered if Tyki could tell him about the symbols.  
  
But, when Alma looked, he couldn’t see any signs of Tyki.  
  
Alma felt his heart drop into his stomach, as he turned around again. “Tyki?” Alma called, as he tried to locate the Noah. “Tyki, are you there?”  
  
There was no response, and Alma could feel himself becoming nervous. Had Tyki continued on without Alma? Alma had been walking a bit behind the Noah to begin with…but surely Tyki would have noticed if Alma had stopped following, wouldn’t he? Unless, Tyki had simply _left_ Alma…  
  
The thought stung, and Alma started down the hallway in the direction they had been walking.  
  
“Tyki!” Alma called again, as he tried to locate the Noah. “Tyki, can you hear me?”  
  
Again, Alma was only met with silence. The halls stretched on, long and dark, and Alma found himself at a loss for what to do. Should he turn around, and go back to his room? He might have been able to do so, but he and Tyki had taken so many turns – Alma didn’t know if he’d get lost going back. But he didn’t know if he’d get lost going forward either.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, as he pushed onward.   
  
Alma made it a bit further down the hall, before he came to where the hall spit ways. Torn, Alma looked between both halls.   
  
Down the left hall, Alma thought he saw someone move.  
  
“Tyki!” Alma shouted, as he started to rush down the hallway. “Tyki, wait-“  
  
Alma cut off, as he stopped running.   
  
It wasn’t Tyki – Alma realized that almost immediately. From a distance, Alma hadn’t been able to tell. The darkness of the hall had made any details difficult to decipher, but soon enough Alma could see the now apparent differences: lighter clothing, teal hair, a longer face…  
  
No, this man _definitely_ wasn’t Tyki.  
  
Turning to face Alma completely, the teal-haired man smiled. As he did, Alma noticed the trademark yellow eyes that the Noah all possessed, and Alma immediately tensed.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t our house guest,” the man said, as his grin broadened. “Alma, right?”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything at first, as he eyed the Noah warily. He swallowed. “Um…yeah…”  
  
“Nice to meet you. Name’s Fiidora,” the Noah said, as he leaned against the wall. “Not Tyki, I’m afraid.”  
  
Alma’s cheeks heated, as he looked off to the side. “Have you seen him?” Alma asked. “We were walking, but…”  
  
“But then you got separated?” Fiidora asked, before a small laugh escaped him. “Figures. Lead it to Tyki to lose a person.”  
  
Alma turned back to Fiidora swiftly. “He didn’t lose me!” Alma defended, not even realizing what he was saying until the words had flown from his lips. Alma quickly grew embarrassed by his own response and averted his gaze once more. “At least…I don’t think he did on purpose…”  
  
“You give him too much credit,” Fiidora said, before he looked back at Alma with intrigue. “Just where was Tyki taking you though? You’ve been holed up in your room pretty much since you got here…”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered back to Fiidora, his words locking up in his chest.  
  
“I see you found Flower Boy.”  
  
Alma and Fiidora both turned, just as they spotted Tyki approaching them.  
  
“I see you _lost_ Flower Boy,” Fiidora jested, tone light and teasing. “Way to go – aren’t you the one who’s been saying we need to be gentle with him?”  
  
Tyki scoffed. “It’s not my fault he wandered off,” Tyki said, before his attention flickered to Alma. “After all, you _were s_upposed to be right behind me…or did you change your mind and want to go back to your room?”  
  
“No,” Alma rushed, fearful that he’d lose his chance to go outside. “I...I got distracted. There were some symbols on the walls back there-“  
  
“The old writings?” Fiidora asked, before looking back at Tyki. “You’re a really shitty tour guide – you could have at least pointed them out.”  
  
Tyki rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t be any better.”  
  
“Wouldn’t I?” Fiidora asked. An amused look passed over his expression as he turned to face Alma, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Want to ditch Tyki, and I’ll show you around instead?”  
  
Alma floundered, completely at a loss for how to respond. “Um…”  
  
Tyki intervened. He took a step near Alma, before he unexpectedly wrapped an arm around the younger deity’s shoulder, pulling him close.   
  
Alma stiffened as soon as he felt Tyki’s touch, his heart thudding in his chest.  
  
“Sorry,” Tyki said, as he smiled over at Fiidora. “I already have plans with Flower Boy – told him I’d take him outside for a bit.”  
  
Fiidora looked a bit surprised. “Really? Is Sheril okay with that?”  
  
“I don’t really care about what Sheril thinks,” Tyki brushed off, as he kept one arm draped over Alma’s shoulder. “But we should get going – don’t want to waste any time.”  
  
Fiidora snickered. “Don’t let me be a third wheel then,” he said, as he met Alma’s gaze one final time. “See you around.”  
  
Alma watched, as Fiidora turned to head off in the opposite direction after that.   
  
Tyki shifted, as he released his hold of Alma. “Let’s get going,” Tyki said, as he turned to continue walking.  
  
Alma did the same, this time keeping up with Tyki’s pace so he wouldn’t accidentally get left behind again. However, while walking Alma couldn’t help but notice how _cold_ his shoulder suddenly felt – not like how warm it had been when Tyki had touched it.  
  
In a way, the lack of touch felt…almost a bit empty.  
  
Alma rubbed his shoulder, as he tried to push the thoughts aside. Why was he thinking such things?  
  
They soon came to a staircase, which they both started to descend. As they did, Alma began to recognize their surroundings more; the staircase was a narrow one, but it exited out through a door that led into the main entrance hall – just a bit a way’s from the grand staircase that Alma was more familiar with.  
  
“We went a different way?” Alma asked, as he looked around.  
  
“We did,” Tyki confirmed. “Personally, I like this way better – it’s a bit easier to sneak out if you’re not walking around out in the open.”  
  
“You sneak out?” Alma asked, somewhat confused.   
  
“Sometimes, if I feel like it,” Tyki answered simply. He stopped just as he reached one of the main doors and turned back to Alma. “You always ask so many questions?”  
  
Alma swiftly looked away, somewhat abashed. “Sorry – I can stop.”  
  
“No, no – I don’t mind. Definitely prefer it to you throwing furniture at me,” Tyki said, a hint of humor in his voice.  
  
Alma remained quiet at this, as a small blush colored his face.  
  
To Alma’s relief, Tyki didn’t say anything more on the subject. He only continued on, pushing one of the front doors open as he stepped outside. A cool gust of fresh air entered into the main entrance hall as a result, with the breeze grazing Alma’s flesh like a gentle kiss of ice.  
  
Alma suppressed a shiver, as he rubbed his arms. The air was cool, and crisp; it actually held a freshness that Alma found himself suddenly _thirsting_ for. Every fiber in Alma’s being yearned for that air and yearned for that sensation of being _outside_ – of being free, and without any confinement.   
  
Alma followed Tyki all the way to the door; he stopped, though, just as he was about to exit outside. Too vividly, Alma recalled his first day in the Underworld when he had tried to flee, and how the anklet had chained him back to prevent him from escaping the castle.  
  
Inside, Alma felt a twinge of unease.  
  
Tyki only made it a few feet outside before he glanced back. He noticed Alma’s hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “You _can _come out,” Tyki reminded Alma. “If a Noah allows it, you won’t be chained back.”  
  
Alma wavered. Despite Tyki’s reassurances, Alma found it difficult to continue forward. He could only stand there in the doorway, eyes downcast as his mind continued to linger on the golden band. It wasn’t glowing at the moment, but would it activate despite Tyki’s words? Alma didn’t know, but he didn’t want to have that horrible chain yank him back – he didn’t want that sort of humiliation again.  
  
He didn’t want to be lied to.  
  
When no response came, a tiny frown appeared on Tyki’s face. He watched a moment longer as Alma only remained still, completely soundless and gaze tugged downward.  
  
Tyki walked back to where Alma was. He didn’t say anything, and only continued to watch as Alma’s eyes remained downcast. If anything, he looked nervous – more nervous than what Tyki could have anticipated.  
  
It was odd – Tyki almost felt a small bit of pity for Flower Boy.  
  
Alma still hadn’t moved. He was too stuck, and too focused on the anklet. It was silly, almost – Alma felt like some child too entrapped by his own fear to move a muscle. He was just _paralyzed_, with no power to do as he wished, and no freedom to move as he pleased-  
  
Suddenly, a hand was held out in front of Alma.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked up. Tyki had walked back to where Alma stood and was now holding his hand out for Alma to take.   
  
“Here,” Tyki offered. “It’ll be fine – you’re not going to get yanked back like you think you are.”  
  
Confusion danced across Alma’s expression, as his gaze rose to meet Tyki’s. He had expected to see something in Tyki’s eyes that could have been a warning: a glint of mischievousness, or a hint of something cruel. That would have made sense to Alma – it would have made sense that Tyki would have possibly tricked him.  
  
However, when Alma looked…he didn’t see that. He only saw warm molten gold, inviting and beckoning.  
  
Promising.   
  
Maybe, Alma was just being desperate. Maybe he only wanted someone to trust, because he hadn’t been able to do so easily since being ripped away from his home. Maybe he wanted to think that Tyki _was_ someone that he could trust, because even if Tyki didn’t actually care, Tyki had bothered to give Alma food and some sort of outlet. He had bothered.  
  
Alma was foolish. Truly, childishly foolish.  
  
Sensing Alma’s hesitation, Tyki spoke again, his voice softer than normal. “I’m not lying to you,” he promised, his eyes never once leaving Alma’s. “You can come outside.”  
  
Alma’s eyes remained locked with Tyki’s. The Noah’s gaze was transfixing, making it difficult for Alma to look away. In some ways, Alma felt similar to a moth being drawn to a flame – completely hypnotized, and entranced.   
  
Slowly, Alma took Tyki’s hand.  
  
There was a slight tremble in Alma’s touch – one that felt fragile and unstable. The moment Alma’s hand touched Tyki’s, his grasp curled over Alma’s, stabilizing Alma’s hold.  
  
Tyki’s eyes returned to Alma’s once more, as he smiled. “This way,” he said, as he began to pull Alma forward.  
  
Alma swallowed, as he obliged. He was still nervous, with his limbs somewhat shaky and his mind alert. However, he pushed himself to follow Tyki, his steps hesitant and uneasy.  
  
One step, two steps – a few steps outside…  
  
Alma looked down as they moved. He found himself still on edge, almost as though he were waiting for that invisible chain to activate. But, as Tyki guided him, they continued on a bit farther outside, near where the gardens were and the stone fountain…  
  
The chain never activated.  
  
They stopped, just before reaching the fountain. Once they did, Tyki turned to face Alma, still holding the other deity’s hand as he smiled back at him. “There – made it out with no problem, see?”  
  
Alma looked down, completely stunned. He…he almost couldn’t believe it. He was outside.  
  
Glancing around, Alma began to take in their surroundings. He hadn’t been able to do so his first time in the Underworld, but could now see more of the gardens, and the strange nocturnal flowers that blossomed in the darkness.  
  
“Can I look around?” Alma asked, the words tumbling out quickly as he turned back to Tyki.  
  
Tyki grinned. “Knock yourself out,” he said. “Just don’t run off – I still have to keep an eye on you.”  
  
Alma’s eyes locked with Tyki’s, and for a moment, he didn’t move.  
  
Then, Alma darted off.  
  
It had been more out of excitement than anything else. Alma was just _eager_ – he hadn’t been outside for over a week, and even if it wasn’t the same as home, being able to roam outside was still _something._ It was dark, but there were still the different flowers and the fresh air – something Alma had been in desperate need of. Yes, there had been the greenhouse, but it hadn’t been the same as being _outside_.  
  
Alma stopped, just as he came upon some white, milky flowers – moonflowers. Alma had heard of them and seen some illustrations, but truthfully, he had never _seen_ any himself. There were not as many nocturnal flowers back home.  
  
Somewhat quickly, Alma spared a glance back toward Tyki. He could see that Tyki hadn’t bothered to follow Alma, and instead remained slouched against the fountain, with what looked to be a cigarette in his hand that he had just lit for a smoke. If anything, Tyki didn’t even appear to be _paying_ much attention to Alma – he instead appeared aloof, and completely disinterested in his surroundings.  
  
Alma turned away, as he returned his attention to the flowers before Tyki could notice.   
  
If Tyki wasn’t going to hover, that was fine – Alma didn’t’ want someone constantly looking over his shoulder. He wanted space. And now that he was finally outside, he didn’t know when he would get it again. There was no guarantee that Tyki would do this for Alma a second time.  
  
Walking around, Alma continued to look at the different plants and flowers. While he had recognized the moonflowers, Alma only saw a few more that were familiar: evening primroses, gardenias… the other blossoms were strange though, and foreign to Alma. He couldn’t even recall having ever seen anything like them.  
  
Alma paused beside a few flowers. They were a dark, pinkish color, with narrow petals that appeared somewhat sharp. Warily, Alma eyed them; they were intriguing, but their appearance was a bit unsettling.  
  
Moving on, Alma glanced around some more. There were a few more garden patches, and nearby he could see the wall of the hedge maze.  
  
Alma stilled. His eyes rested on the wall, just as it traced to the hedge maze’s entrance. Along the edges, Alma could see several pale, cream-colored flowers gently illuminated in the darkness, which were narrow and lily-like in their appearance.  
  
Alma hesitated. Again, his attention flickered over to Tyki, who still didn’t seem to be paying Alma any mind.  
  
Taking a small breath, Alma walked over toward the entrance of the hedge maze. His eyes again wandered to the flowers, which remained on each side of the entrance – tall and twisting. They were elegant, really, with how their petals wisped into narrow tips, and a hint of sweetness tickled Alma’s tongue.  
  
A small breeze brushed passed Alma, causing him to shiver. He rubbed his arms, as he looked up.  
  
His attention immediately landed on the maze’s entrance – which extended into darkness, and farther than what Alma could see.  
  
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”  
  
Alma jumped, as he whirled around. However, he lost his balance, and before Alma could blink, he could feel himself falling back into where the flowers were.  
  
Quickly, Tyki caught Alma, preventing him from falling into the flowers. One hand remained on Alma’s upper back, with the other caught his wrist.   
  
Alma froze. He could feel every muscle in his body lock up as his heart palpitated in his chest, his eyes once more locking with Tyki’s.  
  
Tyki shifted, as he pulled Alma more upright, making sure the other deity was steady before he released his hold on him. Somewhat nonchalantly, his attention flickered to the cream-colored flowers, before he spoke. “Don’t want to fall into those either,” Tyki reiterated, as he refocused his attention on Alma. “They’re more poisonous than your typical sword lily.”  
  
Alma swiftly looked back at the flowers – or _sword lilies_, as Tyki had called them. “They’re poisonous?” Alma asked, as he stepped away from them.   
  
“Not enough to kill you,” Tyki pointed out. “But enough to cause an unpleasant side effect or two.”  
  
Alma rubbed his wrist, as his eyes remained on the flowers. But then his attention shifted, as he glanced back at the hedge maze’s entrance.  
  
“What’s in there?” Alma asked, as he turned back to Tyki.  
  
Tyki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he remained quiet, his eyes for a moment appearing cool and distant – something that stood out to Alma starkly. He had already gotten used to Tyki being so casual, and laid-back, and to see such a _chill_ in Tyki’s eyes…  
  
Suddenly, Alma remembered that Tyki was a Noah.  
  
Tyki smirked, as he held Alma’s gaze. “Nothing for you to see,” he answered simply. “We’ll just say it’s off limits.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. There had been a cold, cutting edge to Tyki’s words – something that signaled that Tyki wouldn’t bother to say anymore on the topic. Admittedly, this only wetted Alma’s curiosity even more. He didn’t know what was in the maze, but he was intrigued as to what it was that Tyki might have kept from Alma – and as to what it was that might have been hiding in the maze.  
  
Alma didn’t ask though. He didn’t dare.  
  
Tyki took a step back, before he spoke once more. “You better look around while you can,” he said, in reference to the outside garden. “I can’t say for sure when I’ll be able to bring you out here again.”  
  
A shiver passed throughout Alma’s body, as the words sank into his very bones. There had been something _hard_ attached to those words – a warning, cool and icy. It rippled into Alma’s very core, like a promise of something terrible if Alma were to disobey.  
  
Without saying anything, Alma turned, and went back to the garden while he still could.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The meeting hall was silent.  
  
Mostly silent, at least – there was hardly any sound, save for that of those shuffling to their seats. However, even that noise was minimal. The footsteps made were light, with any words exchanged no more than an inaudible whisper. The members of the Order were discreet in their swiftly exchanged glances, and low murmurs; at best, the noise was a hum. A dull, mutable hum.  
  
Twi tried to ignore it.  
  
Her efforts were futile. Every whisper, every glance – it all grated on Twi’s nerves. Her muscles were tense, and her body was rigid, hands pressing down into her lap as she attempted to remain composed.  
  
A few more whispers could be heard, and Twi’s attention shifted. She managed to lock eyes with the speakers: two other members of the Order, who immediately silenced themselves as soon as they met Twi’s gaze.  
  
Somewhat awkwardly, the two Order members broke eye contact as they took their seats at the table.  
  
Twi exhaled silently, as he felt her hand ball into a fist. She tried to keep herself steady, and calm – or at the very least, maintain the façade of such. She couldn’t afford to lose control now.  
  
Not now.  
  
A gentle hand placed itself over Twi’s fist, causing Twi to look up. She immediately came face to face with Edgar – whose eyes which were normally so soft and so kind, now appeared worn and tired. A few dark circles could be seen beneath his eyes, and the usual spark of light that appeared in them seemed diminished.  
  
Like Twi, Edgar hadn’t slept a wink.  
  
Despite this, Edgar gave Twi’s hand a small squeeze – a comforting gesture, in the midst of all that was occurring.  
  
“We’ll figure it out, Twi,” Edgar said quietly, though even he sounded as though he struggled to believe such. “We’ll find out what happened.”  
  
Twi’s expression remained severe, as her eyes flickered away.  
  
On the other side of Edgar, Bak remained. He too looked restless, with distress brimming in his eyes. Bak couldn’t help it; he just was not as skilled as maintaining his composure as his parents were. It was a frustrating realization, and despite the continuous fracture Bak felt, he forced himself to try to conceal what he could.  
  
Try. He had to try.  
  
Bak glanced over. He could see his father attempting to inconspicuously comfort his mother. While both Edgar and Twi for the most part were holding their own, they were more distraught than Bak had ever seen them.   
  
Truthfully, it only caused the weight of the situation to feel all the more suffocating.  
  
Bak exhaled and looked around. His grandfather was already seated on the other side of Twi, with the remaining members of the Order present also sitting.   
  
Among them, Bak noticed Renee Epstein. Her normally harsh blue flickered toward where the Changs remained, and for a moment Bak thought he saw a hint of sympathy.  
  
Bak abruptly looked away. If Renee Epstein was bothering to give sympathy, then he didn’t like to think of what that meant for the situation as a whole.  
  
The meeting hall continued to remain quiet. A tense, unsettling feeling simmered in the air, before soon someone else was escorted into the room, several CROWs in tow and flanking each side.  
  
Sheril.  
  
Bak sucked in a breath, as he felt the room turn several degrees cooler.  
  
The room somehow became even more soundless with Sheril’s presence. However, the Noah was unfazed. He somehow appeared at ease, as though he were attending some inconsequential event; there was hardly an ounce of tension in his body, with his movement smooth and fluid. In many ways, Sheril was like a serpent: slithering about through the reeds, and coiling up as though he may strike at any second.  
  
Taking a seat, Sheril’s eyes moved to where the Changs remained – though his expression remained calm, and neutral.  
  
Bak’s attention shifted to his parents. Both of them looked as hard as stone.  
  
Lvellier’s attention also moved to Sheril. He had already been seated just near where Renee way, and as always, his expression was harsh.   
  
Sheril noticed this. Somewhat brazenly, he made eye contact with Lvellier before he smiled. “Such a pleasure to see you so soon again,” Sheril offered, words honeyed and poised. “It’s been twice in the past few weeks? That’s surely something.”  
  
Lvellier’s mustache twitched. “If you’re so quick to converse, then perhaps we should move onto why we’re here,” Lvellier said, before his attention shifted to Twi and Edgar in particular. “I’m sure some of us are rather eager to do so.”  
  
To this, neither Twi nor Edgar said anything.  
  
Sheril’s eyes flickered upward, as his smile remained in place. “Ah, that’s right,” Sheril spoke smoothly. “I understand there’s been some…confusion about the current situation we’re all facing.”  
  
“The situation that _you’ve _created,” Twi suddenly spoke up, words sharp as they cut through the air like a double-edged sword. “You’ve taken _our son_-“  
  
“You’re so swift to make to accusations,” Sheril calmly stated, cutting off Twi. “You’re acting as though we’ve _abducted_ him – I already expressed in my previous correspondence that such isn’t the case.”  
  
“What you previously expressed is hardly credible,” Zuu said, tone calm but sharp. “You claim that Alma _accepted_ an invitation to the Underworld – I can assure you that he would never do such a thing. Not willingly.”  
  
The accusation hung in the air, looming above like a dark cloud. It bore a heavy weight, like a storm threatening to emerge – but was in the last breath of its quietness, before any wrath came to pass.  
  
Somehow, Sheril still remained unfazed.  
  
Lvellier’s attention remained on Sheril, as he then spoke next. “To take an unwilling deity who has their power stem from innocence into the Underworld is a serious transgression – especially with the risk of them being infected by dark matter,” Lvellier expressed harshly. “You had better have evidence that this is something that was agreed upon.”  
  
Sheril’s lips quirked upward. “Don’t worry – I can assure you the boy is in perfectly good care,” Sheril reassured. “He has not been infected or bound to the Underworld in anyway. Not yet, at least.”  
  
The tail end of Sheril’s statement was added coolly, and already Twi looked as though she were close to lashing out in response. However, before she could do anything more, Sheril placed a small, circular amethyst crystal on the table before he slid it across the table to where the Changs were.  
  
The amethyst illuminated, before it unraveled into an aged looking piece of parchment.  
  
“There,” Sheril said. “If you want evidence, all you have to do is read that – you’ll see at the end we have your son’s blood signature. Which, as you already know, isn’t something that can be forged.”  
  
Twi and Edgar were the first to look at the document, eyes wary and minds unsettled. Swiftly, they both looked over the document, which appeared to be that of a contract – at the bottom, of which Alma’s name was scrawled on it in dark red.  
  
Twi looked up. She frowned, as he addressed Sheril. “This makes no sense – Alma would _never_ have agreed to this!”  
  
“Really? You see his signature – a blood signature can’t be written unless someone is willing,” Sheril pointed out, as his eyes burned gold. “Perhaps, your son wanted to leave to be somewhere else – perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought.”  
  
The words were insulting, and Twi could feel her blood begin to boil.  
  
Before anyone could say anything else, Edgar spoke next, as he looked at Sheril in particular. “This contract states that Alma will be there as long as the host sees fits,” he pointed out. “I don’t see why you simply can’t release him back – this was clearly made in error!”  
  
Sheril hummed. “We _could_ release him back,” Sheril commented thoughtfully. “Under the condition that you’d be willing to agree to some of our terms.”  
  
“And just what _terms_ would those be?” Zuu asked.  
  
Sheril held Zuu’s gaze for a moment, before answering calmly. “Remove the barrier you’ve used to lock us Noah in, and we will return the Chang.”  
  
There was an immediate outcry of resistance.  
  
Twi was the most vocal, words scathing as they spilled from her lips. “You’re using him as a _bargaining_ chip!”  
  
“This is _madness_,” Zuu accused. “That boy has done nothing to deserve being used in such a way – you need to return him at once!”  
  
“He agreed by a _blood signature_,” Sheril emphasized. “The boy consented to this, and until a negotiation is made, he will remain with us.”  
  
Edgar’s eyes flashed, as he beat Twi to reacting next. “Sheril, you’ve going _too far_-!“  
  
“That’s _enough_!” Lvellier roared, raising his voice his voice just enough to quiet all at the table. His eyes flashed, as he turned to where Sheril was. “The barrier will _not_ be removed – it is to remain in place, as we decided the last time you attempted to persuade us otherwise. There will be no further negotiation on that!”  
  
Sheril’s eyes remained hard, and the tone of his next words were simultaneously cordial and frosty. “Then I’m afraid that the Chang boy will simply remain with us for the time being,” he said. “As stated in the contract that _he_ consented to.”  
  
“You cannot keep him there – you need to return our son to us!” Twi exclaimed.  
  
“Or what?” Sheril challenged brazenly. “There is a signed contract, and it is binding. From what I understand, even the Order can do nothing about that – not unless we Noah consent to it.”  
  
Twi’s mouth clamped shut, and her attention moved around the table. As she did, she noticed no other members of the Order were itching to speak up – at least, none until Renee did.  
  
Renee’s eyes skimmed the table. “Unfortunately, Sheril is correct – the Order cannot do anything immediately with a contract being involved,” she said, her words turning icy as her gaze rested on Sheril. “But that does not mean something will not be done later on.”  
  
Sheril crossed his arms, as he held Renee’s gaze. “By all means, try what you will,” Sheril urged, before he re-focused on the Changs. “Just know that all you have to do is lower the barrier, and then your son will be returned. Until then, he will stay in the Underworld.”  
  
To this, none of the Changs said anything more. They could only remain silent as the grim reality settled in.  
  
Alma would have to remain in the Underworld, until another solution could be found. But as to what that solution would be, they didn’t have the slightest idea – nor did they have the slightest idea of when they would ever see Alma again.  
  
_If_ they would ever see Alma again.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been itching to get this chapter out, so here it is!
> 
> I wanted there to be some follow up from the last chapter, since Alma and Tyki’s last interact ended on a more unpleasant note. I couldn’t really see Alma seeking Tyki out, so it made for sense for Tyki to do so (especially with Sheril telling him to lay off with how “nice” he’s been to Alma - naturally, that’s all the motivation Tyki needs to do the opposite). In a lot of ways, this really starts out as a game for Tyki; he’s bored, and this whole situation with Alma being in the Underworld has been the most excitement he’s gotten in a while. It’s hard to know where that line is of when he starts caring is though, and it’s definitely been a trickier thing to write.
> 
> Alma, meanwhile, is just confused. He has no idea why Tyki is bothering with him, but really? He’s not going to be able to refuse whatever bone Tyki is willing to throw him. He’s really in need of comfort, and frankly, Tyki is giving it to him (whether they both realize this consciously or not.)
> 
> Hopefully, the pacing isn’t too slow with them and the interactions are still engaging - there’s a little more development to come, but I /promise/ it will pay off. ;3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	16. The Other Noah

Another week passed, and Alma remained in the Underworld.  
  
It was admittedly getting difficult to keep track of time. After the first week, the hours had begun to blur together, melting days into nights and nights into days. There was no real way for Alma to mark the time, causing its passage to seem oddly disorienting. In a way, it felt as though Alma had only just been brought there – yet at the same time, it felt as though Alma had been in the castle for ages.  
  
In the end, Alma had needed to ask Lala how much time had passed when he wanted to know.  
  
It helped to have Lala there. She came by daily to check on Alma and to bring food but would usually stay a bit longer. Alma was glad; it was easy for him to become lonely in that large room, and if he were alone for too long, his thoughts threatened to run.   
  
The world above. His home. His family. Alma’s thoughts always ran to these things, and his heart always ached.  
  
In a way, it _had_ started to become a bit more bearable. Lala had shown Alma more of the castle – and despite his previous reservations Alma soon started to remember how to get around better. The halls did not appear as endless, and in time Alma could pick apart small enough details to know where he was. Alma still couldn’t get around too much, but it was certainly better than when he had first gotten there. At least this way Alma wasn’t so imprisoned that he couldn’t leave his room.  
  
There was also Tyki.  
  
Alma still didn’t quite understand Tyki – he wasn’t sure if he ever would. The Noah only seemed to ever confuse Alma, taunting and teasing him one moment and allowing him to escape outside the next. Twice in the last week Tyki had escorted Alma outside, allowing Alma the illusion of freedom as he wandered the gardens beneath the crystal-encrusted sky. However, Tyki never hovered or lingered too closely to Alma. He just stayed close enough to keep an eye on things and otherwise left Alma alone.  
  
Alma didn’t know why Tyki allowed him such liberties, but Alma didn’t mind. It helped to ease things at least.  
  
Except…the last few days had been different. For whatever reason Alma hadn’t seen Tyki since about three days ago, with that being the second time they had gone outside.   
  
After that, Alma just hadn’t heard from Tyki.  
  
Alma’s expression remained pensive as he placed his hands on a vase. He was currently standing by the writing desk in his room as he focused his energy on the freshly potted soil. After a few moments several sprouts emerged, with tendrils spilling outward before they began to blossom into a small bush of pale pink roses.  
  
With the flowers in bloom, Alma took the vase as he moved it to one of the other windowsills. In other areas of the room there were a few more pots and vases – all filled with different plants and flowers, and of varying shades and colors.  
  
Taking a step back, Alma eyed the roses. The windowsill was a good place for them; like the rest of the flowers, the roses helped to brighten up the room and diminish the darkness. It still wasn’t quite like home, but if anything, it helped.  
  
There was a small knock at the door, polite and gentle. Already, Alma knew who it was – only one person was kind enough to knock in such a way.   
  
“It’s open,” Alma called.  
  
The door opened, and Lala poked her head inside. She glanced around before her good eye soon took notice of the flowers, a small look of awe appearing in her expression.  
  
“Wow, it looks a lot brighter in here with the flowers,” Lala commented, as she walked inside. With her, she had a tray with a pitcher of some fresh water and fruit – mainly some nectarines and figs.   
  
Alma turned to Lala, and smile. “Thanks!” he chirped, eyes lighting up slightly at the compliment. “The colors are just so dark in here, and it never gets light outside…so I wanted to try to change it a little.”  
  
Lala nodded her head slightly as she placed the tray down on the nightstand. “It looks nice – especially the roses.”  
  
Alma shifted a bit, as he glanced over at the tray. As soon as he did, his thoughts immediately flickered to Tyki, and before Alma could think to pause his next words slipped out. “Did you see Tyki earlier?”  
  
Lala paused. “For a moment, yes – but that was it” she answered. She glanced at Alma somewhat curiously. “Is…everything okay? Has the food tasted alright?”  
  
Alma swiftly nodded, not wanting Lala to worry for the wrong reason. “Yes, the food has been good!” Alma reassured her quickly, before he broke eye contact. “I just…hadn’t seen Tyki around the last few days.”  
  
Lala hummed thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen him much either – but he does disappear from time to time,” Lala explained. “I’m sure Lord Tyki has other things he has to do as do the rest of the Noah.”  
  
Alma nodded again. That made sense, and he felt silly for having even asked. Alma had no idea what it was that Tyki did in his free time, or any of the Noah for that matter, but it made sense that they probably had other obligations.   
  
Lala watched, as Alma’s expression remained pensive. A small, somewhat regretful look flickered in her eye as she continued. “I still haven’t found out what happened after Sheril returned from the Order a week ago,” she spoke, as she looked at Alma apologetically. “I’m sorry – I was hoping I might have been able to hear something, but the Noah are especially quiet around me now.”  
  
Alma sighed, and shook his head. “No…that’s not your fault,” he said, before he offered Lala a small smile. “I appreciate that you tried though…that and with Allen. I should have realized it wouldn’t have been easy to get in contact with him.”  
  
“The Noah are thorough in how they manage things,” Lala noted. “But…maybe it’s a good thing you haven’t heard anything?”  
  
Alma blinked. He shrugged, as he averted his gaze. “Maybe…” he said, though his chest felt hollow and the words came dully.  
  
He knew that Lala was only trying to offer some comfort. In a way, it almost helped; it was nice to know that Alma wasn’t completely alone. If anything, Lala was at least able to offer some small bit of friendship that Alma otherwise would have been deprived of.   
  
However, that didn’t change the fact that Alma was still trapped. solated, and cut off from his family.  
  
_‘I wonder what they’re doing now…’_ Alma thought. Bak would have still been at the Acropolis with their grandfather, right? And Alma’s parents…it was the season where humans would be harvesting most of their vegetation, and a busy time for his parents to watch over them. Was that what they were doing now? Or…were they looking for Alma…?  
  
A wave of guilt washed over Alma, as he thought about how often his parents fretted over him at home. And how they likely had reacted to him being gone for so long.  
  
Suddenly, Alma was very aware of how much he missed them.  
  
As Alma’s thoughts began to wander, Lala observed quietly. A somewhat concerned look appeared on her face as she spoke. “Alma…?”  
  
She only needed to say his name, and like a twig breaking amidst a storm Alma seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had near fallen into. “Ah, sorry,” Alma apologized, as he attempted to push aside the thoughts that had begun to stir. Quickly, Alma changed the subject as his eyes turned hopeful. “Would you have time to go to the greenhouse with me? I was thinking of going today, and it’d be nice to have some company.”  
  
Lala nodded with a smile. “Sure! I don’t think anyone will be needing me.”  
  
The answer caused Alma’s eyes to brighten a bit; a smile appeared on his face as well.  
  
They departed from the room after that, walking side by side as they started down the hall. By now Alma knew where they were going; he had started to go to the greenhouse more frequently after Lala had shown him the way a few more times, though he still preferred the company. The dark, shadow-infested halls were not the most pleasant atmosphere to trek through alone, and already Alma could feel himself relax more in Lala’s presence.  
  
“So, you’ve been finding your way around a bit more easily?” Lala asked, as she glanced at Alma.  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah!” he said. “I still get turned around in some areas, but for the most part I think I’m getting the hang of it.”  
  
“Good! It just takes a little practice,” Lala said. “These halls look really dark at first, but after a while you can start to recognize things to distinguish what area you’re in.”  
  
Alma’s lips quirked upward. “You sound like Fou,” he noted. Alma soon noticed Lala’s curious expression and continued. “She’s the one who helps watch over my family’s land and keeps watch over the barrier. She also helped me train with my powers. Sometimes Fou can come off a bit strongly, but she’s really so nice – she’d always keep me company when I’d have to go do chores, and I’ve known her practically my whole life.”  
  
As Alma’s words spilled out, his heart began to sink. While there had been a fondness trickling into his voice, a hollowness had in turn slunk inside of him; again, Alma found himself fixating on thoughts of home. He found himself fixating on the last time he had seen Fou, and…  
  
_Taking a breath, Alma tried to calm himself. “Fou, _please_ just…I need some space. Just tell my father I told you I need space, and I asked to be alone if he says anything!” Alma pleaded. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t have some time to think!”_  
_  
Fou pursed her lips, and nodded. “Alright,” she said, as she looked Alma in the eye. “But if….anything does happen, call for me.”  
  
Alma exhaled heavily. “Nothing will happen…”  
_  
The memory stung – so much, that Alma nearly winced. If only he could take those words back…  
  
As Alma’s quietness once more filled the air, Lala looked at Alma sympathetically. “You probably miss her, don’t you?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he turned back to Lala. Slowly he nodded, as he averted his gaze. “Yeah…”  
  
There was a slight pause in the conversation as they continued walking down the hall. With questioning eyes, Alma looked back at Lala. “I actually was wondering…are you from the Underworld?” Alma asked. “You never have mentioned any family, and I wasn’t sure how you ended up here…”  
  
Lala paused, before a small laugh escaped her. “Oh – I’m not from here,” she answered simply. “I actually am from the mortal realm. I was built there many years ago.”  
  
Alma’s expression turned perplexed. “Built…?” he asked, before he glanced over Lala’s appearance. “But…you’re a person?”  
  
There was something of an amused look in Lala’s good eye, as her smile remained. “Not really,” she admitted, as they continued on. “I’m actually a doll. I just look like a person.”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened a bit. “What?” he asked, the disbelief in his words practically palpable. “But…how did you end up here?”  
  
Lala looked forward as they continued, but she answered all the same. “I was made by humans using an old kind of magic – they did it so I could create music and sing songs for them,” she explained. “But some of them were unsettled, and…didn’t want me around anymore. So they broke me apart.”  
  
Gingerly, Lala brought her hand up to the covered part of her face. “That’s how I lost my eye. I wasn’t really working properly after that, so I just wandered around where people wouldn’t see me…”  
  
Alma remained quiet as he listened. He was both shocked and appalled to hear such a thing, especially given that it was the _humans _who had done such a thing to Lala. “That’s horrible…” Alma found himself saying, as he struggled to fathom such an experience. “My family…they always said that we deities had to watch over humans, because they were good…”  
  
Lala turned back to Alma. While there was still a hint of a smile on her face, it was both knowing and sad. “Not always,” she admitted. “Luckily, Lord Tyki found me. I had no idea who he was at the time, but he was able to fix me up a bit. Then he brought me here where I didn’t have to worry about the humans doing anything else to me.”  
  
Alma blinked. “Tyki found you…?” he asked, before his confusion began to bubble over. “But I thought the Noah were confined to the Underworld.”  
  
“They weren’t always,” Lala said. “Before the Order implemented a barrier, the Noah could move freely among the mortals. From what I understand, Lord Tyki did it quite frequently – I actually thought he was another human when I first saw him.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He was still trying to wrap his mind around Lala’s story, and how Tyki had used to wander the mortal realm. In a way, Alma supposed it wasn’t _so_ far-fetched – Tyki did seem to be the type to do as he pleased, though Alma was intrigued as to what Tyki would have been doing so often in the mortal realm.   
  
“Do you miss it though?” Alma asked, as he looked at Lala questioningly. You know…back where there’s the sun, and other people around.”  
  
Lala paused. A somewhat thoughtful look crossed her features. “Hm…well, it’s hard to say. I’ve gotten so used to being down here,” she admitted, before turning back to Alma. “I don’t mind being here though. Not all of the Noah are that pleasant, but it’s not terrible being here. At least I don’t have to hide. I don’t think I’d be as comfortable living back up there.”  
  
Alma looked down. He was still letting the words sink in, as he attempted to fathom Lala’s experience. Alma had so often wondered about humans, and what their lives must have been like. However, to hear about how they had created Lala only to attempt to harm her later on…it didn’t settle well with Alma.   
  
_‘Are…all humans like that?’_ Alma wondered. No, that couldn’t have been it – if all humans were bad, then his family wouldn’t strive so hard to look over them. The Order wouldn’t either.  
  
Quietly, Alma exhaled. He wondered what Tyki thought of humans…  
  
“Where are you both off to?”  
  
Alma stilled as soon as he heard the voice. The bell-like pitch, and the playful tinge – Alma knew who it was even before he turned to look.  
  
Road was there. She was just up ahead near where Alma and Lala had been heading, hands behind her back and eyes glinting impishly.   
  
“What?” Road asked, when neither Alma nor Lala responded. “Did I interrupt your conversation?”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed up, before he answered. “We were just talking,” Alma said, the response tumbling out quickly. “Lala and I were going to the greenhouse is all.”  
  
“How fun,” Road said, before her eyes swiftly moved over to Lala. “Unfortunately, I think the twins made a bit of a mess in the south wing – they got into a bit of a spar, and I think it needs to be cleaned up.”  
  
Lala wavered. She glanced over at Alma, before returning her attention to Road. “Ah, are no other servants available?” Lala asked, as she kept her words polite. “Alma asked me to accompany him-“  
  
“Hmm, no, so I think _you _should attend to it,” Road said, swift to dismiss Lala. She then grinned. “I was looking for Alma anyways – I can keep him company.”  
  
Alma tensed. His eyes shifted over to Lala, who also looked a bit uncertain as to what to do as her gaze moved to meet Alma’s.  
  
Alma took a small breath as he looked at Lala reassuringly. “That’s okay,” he said, knowing well enough that Lala wasn’t in the position to exactly challenge Road. “I’ll…just see you later, alright?”  
  
Lala looked wary. She appeared hesitant to leave Alma, though at the same time, realized that there was not much she could do. With this in mind, she gave Alma an apologetic look before nodding her head as she turned to leave.  
  
As Lala left, Alma could feel himself grow cold. He struggled to ignore this as he returned his full attention to Road. “Um…why were you looking for me?” Alma asked, despite the fact that he wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ to know.  
  
Road hummed as she walked closer to where Alma was, stopping just before him. “Well, I was thinking we didn’t _really_ get off to a great start,” she said. “And I suppose I _was_ a little rough with you…”  
  
Alma fought a grimace, as he recalled his first interaction with Road all too thoroughly. Unpleasantly, the sensation of falling into darkness ghosted across Alma’s flesh, and his heart lurched uneasily at the memory of dangling above a murky abyss.  
  
“You…could say that…” Alma said, tone cautious. Truthfully, Alma had no idea _what_ Road was doing; he wasn’t sure if she would actually be too apologetic regarding her actions, and even the way she now sounded seemed more a mockery of remorse than anything else.   
  
“You’ve also been here _so long_ already,” Road went on. “It’s been over two weeks now? And you still haven’t met everyone. I was thinking I could introduce you.”  
  
Alma blinked, rather bewildered by the suggestion. He shifted his weight, as he looked off to the side. "You mean the other Noah?” he asked, as he thought back to the few he had already encountered. Tyki, of course, was one, and then there was Sheril. And briefly, Alma had met one named Fiidora…  
  
“Mmhmm. You’ve only met a few of us, and you’ve been holed up in this side of the castle – I thought it was time you got out more,” Road said.  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted back to Road. As always, there was a glint in her eyes – one that left Alma unnerved. It made Alma want to refuse; he wasn’t as comfortable around Road and Alma couldn’t help but feel as though she were setting him up for something.  
  
At the same time…Alma wasn’t sure what would happen if he refused.  
  
Swallowing, Alma nodded. “Um…alright, I guess,” he finally agreed.  
  
“Yay!” Road gushed, as she unexpectedly latched onto Alma’s arm.   
  
Alma staggered a bit, completely caught off guard by the unanticipated contact. However, Road kept herself locked onto Alma’s arm as her impish smile remained in place.  
  
“I’m glad you said yes – it’s not fair if Tyki is the only one who always gets to show you around,” Road said. “It almost makes me jealous with how much attention he’s given you since you arrived here.”  
  
Alma looked at Road, completely baffled. Partly because she was still hanging onto his arms as though they were friends, and partly because of the comment she had just made. Cheeks heating a bit, Alma broke eye contact. “He...he doesn’t pay that much attention,” Alma murmured. “I haven’t even seen him the last few days, so…”  
  
Road rolled her eyes. “He’s still bothering to check in about you,” she stated, before she tugged on Alma’s arm to guide him. “This way, now.”  
  
Alma obliged, though he did so somewhat awkwardly. For whatever reason, Road had decided to continuously cling to Alma’s arm as they walked, causing Alma’s pace to be a bit uneven as he had to match Road’s. It was a bit of a clumsy process, especially with Road being so much shorter than Alma. Alma did his best though– mostly to avoid causing Road any offense.  
  
As Road held onto Alma’s arm, she spoke up again. “Unfortunately, Lord Millennium is preoccupied with something at the moment – but he’ll be looking forward to meeting you soon too,” Road said. She looked up at Alma, eyes gleaming. “He did want me to emphasize how sorry he is – but he wanted to give you time to settle before overwhelming you. You were so _upset_ when you got here.”  
  
Alma felt a small twitch in his muscles and fought the urge to instinctively pull from Road. A chill befell his whole being, as Road’s words sank in.   
  
The Millennium Earl. The one who led the Noah, and who ruled over the Underworld.  
  
Alma had only heard stories about the Millennium Earl – just as he had only ever heard stories about the Noah. They had been from both his families, as well as the nymphs that served them. But all seemed to say the same: that the Millennium Earl was not a presence to be trifled with and had been locked away in the Underworld for a reason.  
  
Nauseously, Alma felt his stomach churn. He hadn’t thought the actual _Earl _would care to meet him…  
  
“Lord Millennium…actually wants to meet me?” Alma asked, voice turning timid.   
  
Road giggled girlishly. “Are you nervous?” she asked teasingly. “Don’t worry. He’s very nice…as long as he’s in a pleasant mood. He’s just busy with the Erebus.”  
  
Perplexed, Alma’s eyes remained on Road. “What’s…the Erebus?”  
  
“Oh, you probably wouldn’t know – your family had clearly kept you uninformed,” Road noted, the insult slipping through her lips with ease. She looked back at Alma with a playful smile on her lips. “Erebus is the darkness that spawned us Noah and that spawned dark matter. It’s what gave us life, long before your kind existed.”  
  
Alma frowned pensively. “But…what is it? Is it a deity?”  
  
Road laughed, completely amused by Alma’s response. “More than that – but this is different. The old Erebus has long since fallen dormant,” Road explained. “We now simply have a ball we’ve named Erebus in its honor. It’s very fun, and a lot of the dead look forward to it.”  
  
Surprise filled Alma. A ball? The image was a strange one; the Underworld was so dark and dreary, and to think of the Noah having any sort of festivity was…bizarre. Alma couldn’t even envision it.   
  
“So it’s…a dance?” Alma asked, as he tried to better understand.  
  
“Well, it is now,” Road clarified, as her eyes moved to Alma sharply. “The Erebus used to be a time when the dead could cross back into the world of the living – for that one night without any restrictions. At least, it was until your _family_ barred us from leaving.”  
  
There was a sharp _clip_ to the way in which Road spoke. Immediately Alma noticed the distaste, and felt an impulse to defend his family. “They-“  
  
“Don’t worry,” Road dismissed coolly, as her nails sharply traced along Alma’s arm. “I’m sure they were only doing what the _Order_ told them to do. Can’t risk anything happening to their sweet little mortals.”  
  
Alma remained quiet. He hadn’t been so naïve to miss the bite to Road’s words, and the bitterness that lingered on her tongue. It was acidic, and Alma had to keep from squirming against Road’s touch.  
  
Thankfully, Road didn’t say anymore after that. They walked a bit longer, with the halls beginning to lose their familiarity; by this point, Alma realized that Road was leading him into another area of the castle that he probably hadn’t yet explored. The halls were still dark and mostly carved of stone, but up above Alma began to seem glints of amethyst and quartz: geodes, that sparkled like stars amongst the ceiling.  
  
Growing distracted, Alma looked up. The crystals trickled down the walls, and even into the ground the further they walked; the texture smoothed out as well, giving the architecture a uniquely sleek appearance. Torch flames danced, causing gems to glisten, and Alma’s eyes continued to wander in awe.  
  
_‘It’s…really pretty…’_ Alma realized, somewhat surprised by the observation. So much of the castle and seemed dark and dreary, but while this area was dark, it was definitely more…elegant.  
  
Road’s eyes shifted over to Alma, and she smirked. “Like it?”  
  
Alma glanced down at Road, and then back at their surroundings. He nodded his head slowly. “It’s looks nice.”  
  
Road’s smirk remained in place, and their walk continued.  
  
They eventually came to a set of double doors, also smooth and marbled with glints of smoky quartz. Road released her grip on Alma’s arm as she skipped over to the door, before pulling on open. She turned back when she noticed that Alma hadn’t moved though and looked at him expectantly. “Coming?”  
  
Alma wavered. He knew he couldn’t very well change his mind – at least, not without making some kind of a scene. And considering it was _Road…_  
  
Alma rubbed his forearm – just where Road’s grasp had been clasping at. Too easily, Alma recalled the sharpness of her nails, and that unpleasant glint in her eyes.  
  
_‘Just go,’_ Alma told himself. _‘Just go and play along…maybe the other Noah won’t be as bad…’_  
  
Alma told himself this repeatedly, but the effort was strained regardless.   
  
As Alma forced himself to follow Road, Road went ahead inside, a small bounce in her step and an air of childish excitement about her.  
  
“I brought someone to say hi,” Road sang, as she looked about the room.  
  
Alma also looked around. He could see that they had entered what appeared to be some kind of lounge; it was large enough that quite a few people could have hung around comfortably but wasn’t so big that it was overwhelming. There was a large table near the windows that could have easily sat eight to ten people, and in another corner, it looked as though it were a more intimate reading area beside an unlit fireplace. Near the center, there was also a lower table, with two divans on either side and some additional seating.  
  
It was then Alma noticed the other people in the room. One, Alma recognized immediately; the teal hair was a sharp reminder, with Fiidora slouching against one of the walls. However, there were some other people: a young man with platinum hair sitting on a divan beside a black cat, and two other teenagers with long, shaggy hair that were close to identical.  
  
As Alma’s eyes moved around, a wave of disappoint grazed him. Tyki wasn’t there.  
  
Fiidora looked up as soon as Road spoke, his attention landing on her and Alma immediately. “Well, this is a surprise,” Fiidora commented. “You brought the Chang to say hi in one piece. You’re usually rougher than that.”  
  
“I can behave when I want to,” Road said, before she playfully took Alma’s arm again. “Besides – Alma _wanted_ to come with me. He’s already been here for so long and has barely met anyone.”  
  
There was a small snort from the platinum-haired Noah, who was sitting cross-legged still. “He definitely did _not_ want to come with you – he only came because he was hoping Tyki would be here.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma’s face flushed. He had no idea how Wisely had come to such a conclusion, but immediately felt the need to defend himself.  
  
“Don’t be so mean, Wisely,” Road pouted. She then glanced back at Alma, before whispering softly. “Wisely just likes to act like a know-it-all since he can read minds. I hope you’re not hiding anything right now.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma stiffened. He turned back to where Wisely was, and accidentally locked gazes with the other Noah.  
  
Wisely stared for a moment. At the back at Alma’s neck he could feel his hair stand.  
  
“I heard you already met Fiidora,” Road continued, as she nodded over to where Fiidora was. She then glanced over to the twins. “That’s Devit and Jasdero.”  
  
Devit and Jasdero both grinned.  
  
Road walked over and sat down near where Wisely was. She then took the black cat and placed it in her lap. “You remember Lulu Bell, right?” Road asked, as she stroked the black cat’s back.  
  
Alma blinked, though he quickly recalled that Lulu Bell was the panther that had attacked him. He stared at the cat, somewhat shocked as the realization dawned on him. “You mean that’s…?”  
  
Lulu Bell turned toward Alma, her yellow eyes gleaming as she hissed lowly.  
  
Alma jumped a little, his instincts urging him to keep away.   
  
Devit and Jasdero spoke up next, as they quickly approached Alma. “So, we heard you totally _wrecked_ the guest wing when you came here,” Devit said, as his grin remained broad. “You going to show us more of what you can do? I’d _kill_ to see.”  
  
Jasdero giggled. “Yeah, show us!”  
  
Alma stared, somewhat stunned. “What?” he asked, initially confused.   
  
“You know – like when you lost your shit when you first got here? From what Wisely said, you were freaking out _a lot_,” Devit clarified.  
  
Quickly, Alma caught on, as he recalled just how distraught he had been when first arriving in the Underworld – and just how out of control his powers had gotten. “That…that was an _accident_! I didn’t do any of that on purpose!”  
  
“Come on, show us what you can do! I want to see!” Jasdero whined.  
  
Wisely frowned, as he looked over at the twins. “Don’t be starting some immature brawl because you’re bored – not with our guest,” he warned. “You know that’s off limits.”  
  
“Ugh, don’t be _lame_,” Devit countered. “I just want to see what the Chang can do – you know, they always act so high and mighty. I want to see if they live up to it.”  
  
As soon as Devit said this, Alma’s eyes flashed. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he asked, bristling as his tone started to turn defensive. “My family doesn’t act that way-“  
  
Devit snickered. “_Sure_, they don’t,” he replied, sarcasm lacing his words. “That’s why they thought they were better fit to watch over the humans – them and the Order. Doesn’t matter that we were around _long_ before they were.”  
  
Alma’s fists balled. He had only been in the presence of the other Noah for a few moments, but already, he could feel his patience running thin. Alma didn’t care who the Noah were – they didn’t have a right to insult his family in such a way. Not like _that_-  
  
“They _were _a better fit,” Alma emphasized, before he could stop himself. “My family actually cares about the humans – they wouldn’t ever let the akuma hurt them like you did.”  
  
Devit paused for a moment. He actually looked a bit surprised by Alma’s strong-worded reaction, though a smile soon returned his face. “Well,” Devit said. “_Someone_ is a little defensive.”  
  
Jasdero once more laughed, as he repeated Devit’s observation. “_Very_ defensive!”  
  
“Come on, take it easy,” Fiidora urged languidly. “It’s not his fault if he’s ignorant.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed up, as he stared at Fiidora, stunned by the words. _‘Ignorant?’_  
  
“Ugh, you all really are no fun,” Devit said. He then abruptly turned, apparently losing any further interest in Alma. “Come on, Jasdero. Let’s go do something else.”  
  
Jasdero obliged – but glanced at Alma a final time as he stuck his tongue out.  
  
Road swung her legs, as she remained seated beside Wisely. “You should sit down,” she suggested. “There’s plenty of space.”  
  
Alma found himself hesitating. In all honesty, he wanted to leave; the Noah were already proving to be more unpleasant than not, and Alma couldn’t ignore the tension that had started to fester in the room. However, Alma could feel all eyes on him – every single one of the Noah present, as they waited for him to make his next move.  
  
Quietly, Alma forced himself to take a seat on the divan across from Road and Wisely, with the low table acting as a small barrier of space in-between them.  
  
Road smiled as Alma did such. “I’d offer tea, but you still won’t eat or drink anything from here, will you?”  
  
Again, Alma could feel himself tense. He was beginning to feel more uncomfortable with each passing second and could barely keep his composure intact. “Um…no, I can’t.”  
  
“Still convinced you’ll be able to leave soon?” Wisely asked. “You’re quite optimistic, given how long it’s been already…”  
  
Alma’s attention snapped to Wisely. “I’m _not_ staying here forever,” Alma stated. “My family won’t let me stay here – they’ll have me return home as soon as they can.”  
  
Road giggled softly. “You really _are_ optimistic – didn’t you give a blood signature agreeing to stay here by our terms?” she challenged, words sweetly acidic.  
  
Alma’s brow furrowed, as his frustration started to brew. “I didn’t give it willingly-“  
  
“That’s not how it works,” Wisely explained, as he crossed his arms.   
  
“Sheril created the invitation and contract, and he builds them so that they can’t be signed unless someone is willing. As a Noah, he focuses heavily on the desires of others,” Wisely pointed out. His eyes then met Alma’s, as he continued. “You clearly had a desire to leave, or else it wouldn’t have worked.”  
  
Alma stared, mouth slightly agape. “What? But I would _never_ want to leave my family-!“  
  
“Maybe not consciously,” Wisely said with a shrug. “Subconsciously is another story.”  
  
Road leaned over, as she placed her head on Wisely’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry so much about leaving anyways,” Road advised. “It seems you’ll be here for a while by the looks of it – it’s why I thought you might as well get to know everyone.”  
  
Alma blinked. He looked at Road questioningly. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, no one told you?” Road asked. “Sheril went to the Order after your first week here – he got back after a few days. Apparently, your family wasn’t willing to meet our terms to have you sent back.”  
  
Immediately, Alma’s thoughts screeched to a halt.  
  
He didn’t say anything at first – he couldn’t. Alma could only stare, somewhat dumbly, as he tried to process what Road had just said to him.  
  
“You mean they…they talked to Sheril?” Alma asked, throat suddenly feeling dry.  
  
“Had a whole meeting and everything. Your family had the option of either lowering the barrier and having you returned, or not,” Road explained, as she continued to hold Lulu Bell. Her yellow eyes burned brightly as she met Alma’s gaze, with a sharp gleam in her irises. “I guess they just thought the barrier was a little more important. What a shame for you.”  
  
The words were a knife into Alma’s chest. There was no other way to describe them. Like a blade twisting into his insides, the words _hurt_ – they had been sharp and piercing, so much that Alma momentarily felt himself stop breathing.  
  
His family. Sheril had spoken to his family. They had had the opportunity to take Alma _back_…  
  
Alma shook his head. “No,” he began to say, words quiet. “No, they…they can’t lower the barrier. It’s not their fault…”  
  
“Oh? I assure you they can – they just didn’t _want_ to,” Road reiterated coolly.  
  
Again, Alma shook his head. The denial was still simmering, as he began to roar into a steady boil. “No,” Alma repeated, as he tried to speak more clearly. “No, my family wouldn’t leave me unless they _had_ to. They love me, and they’d never _abandon_ me like that…!”  
  
As Alma said the words aloud, he could feel his shoulders trembling a little. His limbs felt shaky, and his insides felt as though they were crumbling as Road’s words continued to sear themselves into Alma’s mind. _‘They wouldn’t…’_  
  
Faintly, Alma was aware that he was beginning to fall apart. He had been trying so hard not to, and to keep up with whatever game it was that Road had started. But Alma was losing; he had come into an environment where he was just sitting there, surrounded by them as they poked and prodded, and it was…  
  
Terrible. It was terrible.  
  
Wisely’s eyes lingered on Alma, as a somewhat annoyed look crossed his features. “You shouldn’t get _that_ upset,” he spoke, evidently having poked into Alma’s thoughts. “All it does is prove where their priorities lie-“  
  
Alma’s face whipped up, blue eyes scalding despite their glassiness. “Don’t _talk about them like that!”_ he exclaimed, before something inside snapped all together.  
  
There was the sound of something cracking, before a vine burst through the ground, cracking the smooth floor and even cutting through the center of the table.   
  
The vine whipped down, cracking sharply. Lulu Bell jumped, hissing as she remained in Road’s arms. Wisely too looked as though he were about to fall off the divan from being so startled.  
  
However, the vine did not attack further and only coiled back – almost as though it were preparing to strike again.  
  
The room went silent.  
  
No one said anything, and Alma stared. He stared, completely stunned by the vine’s appearance – something that _he_ had caused. Tearing his eyes from the vine, Alma looked around.  
  
The rest of the Noah were staring at him.  
  
Alma reacted. He didn’t know what the Noah were thinking, or what they might have said – Alma didn’t even want to know. He didn’t _care_.  
  
Quickly, Alma got up and ran out of the room.  
  
No one tried to stop him – or if they did, Alma didn’t notice. Alma thought that maybe he could have heard one of the twins crowing about something, but even that sound fell dull against Alma’s ears. Instead, Alma could only run – he could only run away from that room and down the hall, through the darkness and away from everyone else.  
  
Alma tried to run, but he couldn’t run from Road’s words.  
  
_“Your family wasn’t willing to meet our terms to have you sent back.”_  
  
No. Not, that wasn’t it – it was only because it was a difficult decision. Alma’s family couldn’t lower the barrier without risking the Noah wreaking havoc on the mortals, so of course they wouldn’t have been able to say yes. It was perfectly rational and perfectly logical, so of course they wouldn’t have agreed to _those_ terms…  
  
Yet, it stung. It stung to know that Alma hadn’t been chosen first.  
  
Alma staggered, causing his run to come to an abrupt stop. He clumsily clasped at the stony wall, his lungs suddenly burning with each breath he took and his legs weak to the point of buckling.  
  
It was then that Alma realized something wet was trickling down his cheeks. Tears.  
  
Somehow, this only further pushed the dam to break. Before Alma knew it he had slunk to his knees, as a shallow and pitiful sob escaped him.  
  
Alma hated it. He hated how easily he had broken down, and how he had allowed for Road and the Noah to push him so effortlessly. He hated how he had had to spend any time with them at all, while they picked and prodded at his family. He hated that, and he hated how they took pleasure in _taunting him_…  
  
Alma hated it all so much. _‘I just want to leave…’_  
  
“What happened here?”  
  
The voice cut through Alma’s thoughts, causing him to look up and lock gazes with a familiar pair of molten-colored irises.  
  
Tyki was there. He had a peculiar expression as he eyed Alma inquisitively. However, as Tyki noticed the state Alma was in, his usually easy-going demeanor shifted as a small frown tugged at his lips.  
  
“You’re not usually in this area,” Tyki noted. “Thought I heard something, but I wasn’t expecting it to be you.”  
  
Something in Alma’s chest locked up a little, and he quickly looked away. He was honestly embarrassed to be seen in that moment; already Alma had to deal with the fact that he had completely lost control in front of the other Noah, and now here was Alma, weak to tears and on the ground like some exhausted child.  
  
Alma was just so tired.  
  
“Please go away,” Alma begged, the words coming out in a choke as more tears threatened to continue. “_Please_ – I just want to be alone-“  
  
Another choke, and Alma felt himself cut off.   
  
Alone. Alma didn’t actually want to be alone. He wanted his family.  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, as he watched Alma continue to unravel. While it wasn’t the first time Tyki had seen Alma breakdown, there was something about the boy in that moment that seemed…particularly vulnerable. Even more so than what Tyki had seen before.   
  
As Alma soft cries continued, Tyki sighed. “Alright,” he said, as he walked over to where Alma was, kneeling beside him. “If you want to be alone, you shouldn’t be in the hallway.”  
  
Alma looked back at Tyki. His face was wet, but his eyes were confused. “W-what?” Alma asked, as he fought a sniffle.  
  
“Come on,” Tyki said, as he helped Alma stand. “Let’s get you back to your room.”  
  
Alma wobbled a bit, with Tyki holding him steady. Alma still was somewhat lost though, as he tried to fathom why Tyki would even bother to help. “But why…”  
  
Tyki brought a finger Alma’s lips, as he gently hushed him. “Like I said,” Tyki repeated, voice low and gentle. “Let’s just make sure you get back to your room.”  
  
Alma went still as he felt the tip of Tyki’s fingers upon his lips. His heartrate, which had already been high due to his breakdown, only seemed to increase even more, causing Alma to feel breathless.  
  
In one smooth motion Tyki placed an arm around Alma’s shoulder. He pulled Alma near him.   
  
Alma’s heart jumped, as he recalled the last time Tyki had done this – just before he had taken Alma outside in the Underworld for the first time, and they had run into Fiidora. Heart thudding, Alma was suddenly very aware of the warmth radiating from Tyki’s body, and his own shoulders shook slightly from the cold. However, Tyki was inviting, and Alma…  
  
Alma could feel himself leaning into Tyki.  
  
Tyki’s eyes shifted to Alma, as his gaze rested on the younger deity for a moment. Then, without speaking, he started to lead them back to Alma’s room.  
  
During this time, Alma didn’t once say anything. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t pull away – he only continued to allow himself to lean against Tyki, as he was escorted back to his room.  
  
Alma was just too tired to question it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who celebrate it, Merry Christmas Eve!
> 
> I have time off this week and am off work for a while, so I had extra time to edit and go through chapters (17 is currently being edited now). I debated on posting this one as early as today, but I figured I might as well since it was ready. (Plus, it’s Tyki’s birthday tomorrow!? AYYYE HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU TROUBLEMAKER.)
> 
> In a way, this chapter is more transitional and things are still developing for Alma and Tyki (though, they don’t actually interact in this chapter until the very end). I wanted to include a moment for Alma to learn more about Lala, and hear about her experiences in the mortal realm. While Lala isn’t a major character, I thought it was important for Alma to learn about how humans treated her so poorly, and also get that glimpse into how Tyki played a role in bringing her to the Underworld (which, actually turned out to be a safer environment for Lala).
> 
> This doesn’t mean Alma’s way of thinking is going to change too radically just yet; he’s finally beginning to question things, but ultimately still has a very naive (almost blind) loyalty to his family. This is more apparent when he meets some of the other Noah, which I felt was definitely due. Since Alma has been in the Underworld for two weeks at this point, it made sense that he’d finally be exposed to them somehow, and of course the end results are somewhat disastrous. (As a sidetone: Alma still hasn’t met all of the Noah, which will be coming up soon - and there’s also the Millennium Earl he has to meet as well. >.>)
> 
> A part of me does feel guilty for all the shit I keep putting Alma through. This boy really is being put through the wringer, but then again, this story was never going to be an easy one for him. Tyki of course is there though, and while their one interaction in this chapter isn’t long, it does feel like things are beginning to shift between them - which hopefully will be more apparent the next few chapters. (Especially since we’re going to start moving in a more NSFW direction from this point on - it’s been slow, I know, but just keep that in mind. ;3)
> 
> Please feel free to leave any thoughts or feedback, and happy holidays!


	17. Crossing the Line

Tyki didn’t know what had happened to Flower Boy, but he hadn’t bothered to ask.  
  
It hadn’t seemed to matter in the moment. Alma had clearly been distraught by something – so much that he hadn’t thought to find somewhere more private before falling to pieces. Granted, it wasn’t really _Tyki’s_ problem to worry about; Flower Boy should have had enough sense to go elsewhere less he wanted to risk being found by anyone.  
  
For a moment, Tyki had debated leaving him. For a moment.  
  
It didn’t work, and the next thing Tyki knew he had been escorting Alma back to his room. The boy had been oddly compliant and too worn out to argue. Tyki had only had to hush him once before they were on their way, with Alma leaning into Tyki as though he were in need of some kind of support. Tyki didn’t mind the physical contact though; if he had to help move Flower Boy along, he could do that.  
  
Tyki just wasn’t going to leave him to fall to pieces in the hallway. Flower Boy could at least save that for when he was in the privacy of his own room.  
  
The rest of their interaction was rather insignificant after that. Alma had been more or less silent the whole way back, with his cries having lessened to the occasional sniffle. It wasn’t too annoying – Tyki had dealt with much worse before.  
  
Once they had made it back to Alma’s room Tyki had only stayed long enough to make sure Alma was inside and settled. Again, he didn’t bother to ask about what had happened. Considering how quiet Alma was being Tyki had an inkling that Alma didn’t care to discuss it either. Alma’s eyes were still so glassy, and frankly Tyki wasn’t sure if Flower Boy would break down again if probed.   
  
Needless to say, Tyki didn’t risk it. He left Alma, not saying anything more than that Lala would be by to check on him later.  
  
That had all happened several hours ago and Tyki was still thinking about it.  
  
Tyki exhaled, as a puff of smoke spilled from his lips. He was standing outside on one of the castle balconies, a cigarette in hand as he took another drag. He held his breath, allowing for the nicotine to seep onto his tongue before he exhaled once more, his eyes moving off to the side.  
  
From where he was standing, Tyki could see some parts of the east wing of the castle – the area where Flower Boy was staying in.  
  
There were footsteps from behind Tyki, though he didn’t bother to turn. He recognized the familiar _click_ and the brisk pace easily enough.  
  
Sheril stopped just beside Tyki. His attention soon landed on the cigarette, of which caused his nose to twist in disgust. “I really don’t understand why you bother with those,” Sheril commented. “You can’t even feel its effects.”  
  
Tyki pulled the cigarette from his lips as he knocked off some of the ashes. He shrugged. “Old habits die hard I guess,” Tyki said. He turned, leaning back against the balcony railing. “So, what brings you out here?”  
  
Sheril walked more closely to the balcony railing, as he placed a hand on it. His eyes then flickered over to the area that Tyki had been looking at as well – the east wing.  
  
“That Chang we have here is proving to be more a nuisance than anything else,” Sheril commented, before his eyes flickered to meet Tyki’s. “I assume you heard what happened?”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Um, no. I didn’t,” he said, as he put the remainder of his cigarette out.  
  
Sheril exhaled loftily. “Apparently he caused a bit of a ruckus in the lounge with Road and the others – destroyed one of the coffee tables,” Sheril said. “I swear – that boy has no control whatsoever…”  
  
Tyki blinked. As Sheril said this, Tyki recalled where he had found Alma: in the hallway, but not too far away from where the lounging room was. Tyki wondered if this incident was what had caused Alma to fall into such a state.  
  
“What, did he get riled up somehow?” Tyki asked, careful to keep his tone casual. “I mean, Flower Boy already seems pretty sensitive. And you know how Road is.”  
  
Sheril’s expression remained frosty. “Don’t try to defend him,” Sheril clipped. “If it were up to me, I’d have made sure we stripped his powers the moment he arrived here – but Lord Millennium didn’t think it was necessary.”  
  
Tyki continued to maintain eye contact with Sheril, gaze unwavering. “And?” Tyki asked. “What does Lord Millennium think now?”  
  
Sheril paused, before answering. “Lord Millennium thinks it’s time that he finally speaks to our little houseguest,” Sheril said, words cool. “I’m sure he’ll have…much to say.”  
  
Tyki’s expression remained neutral as he said nothing in return. However, he soon found his own gaze wandering back to the east wing where Flower Boy remained. As he did this, Tyki thought back to when he had seen Alma earlier that day: pathetically broken and terribly vulnerable.  
  
Silently, Tyki reminded himself that it wasn’t his problem.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Crash._  
  
Glass shattered, as it splintered onto the ground. One by one, the pieces clattered as they cascaded down like sharp, crystalline blades. They gleamed beneath the moonlight, edges seared with black and corners piercing.  
  
Alma couldn’t see them.   
  
Alma couldn’t see them, because he couldn’t move. He was just _there_, still as stone and lying on his back, too petrified to move and too frozen.  
  
He felt cold.  
  
Something sharp and icy traced against his cheek. A shiver rippled throughout Alma as his heart hammered in his chest. Desperately, he tried to keep quiet. His breaths were shallow as a result, to the point that his lungs felt as though they may threaten to collapse. He couldn’t breathe, and he could feel himself turning lightheaded…  
  
Alma was too scared. He was too scared to breathe.  
  
He couldn’t see what was on him. Whatever it was, it was a blank: a shadowy silhouette. Contorted, strange, imposing – Alma couldn’t begin to fathom what the details of it were, but something about it chilled his blood and froze his core. A horrid, icy feeling clasped at Alma’s chest, gripping him from the inside out, and an unsettling sense of déjà vu befell him.  
  
Somehow, it was all familiar. Too familiar.  
  
_‘Please,’_ Alma wanted to beg, though the words refused to come forward. _‘Please go-‘_  
  
The silhouette did no such thing, as its sharp, metallic touch lingered against Alma’s face.  
  
Then, Alma could hear someone call his name.  
  
“Alma-!?”  
  
His father. It sounded like his father. More than anything, Alma wanted to scream for help – he wanted to let his father know where he was. However, Alma just couldn’t. He couldn’t-  
  
Suddenly, the silhouette’s hand swung down.  
  
Alma braced himself for the impact – for the searing pain that would inevitably follow. Eyes shut, he waited.  
  
The blow never came.  
  
Gradually, Alma blinked his eyes opened. When he did, the silhouette was gone.  
  
Confusion filled Alma. Very carefully, he sat up, before he glanced around his surroundings. To his surprise, he was in his own bedroom – the very room he had had ever since he was a child.  
  
A breeze brushed passed Alma, causing him to shiver. He quickly rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself as he moved to get out of bed. It was dark, and still possibly nighttime; however, Alma was too awake to go back to sleep. He couldn’t.  
  
He needed to find his parents. Fou. Someone.  
  
Still shivering a bit, Alma quietly crept out of his room. It took him a moment for his sight to adjust; even for nighttime, the halls seemed darker than usual, and the estate far quieter. Shadows loomed like inky black monsters stretching along the walls, and every creak Alma’s steps made echoed loudly.  
  
“Hello?” Alma asked, as he looked around uneasily.   
  
Alma waited. Maybe a nymph would have heard, or even Fou – but no response came.  
  
“Hello?” Alma tried again. “Is anyone around?”  
  
Once more, there was no response.  
  
Another shiver rippled throughout Alma’s body, and he clasped at his arms. _‘Where is everyone?’_ he wondered, as he continued down the stairs to the first floor.  
  
Alma had no better luck downstairs. Just as the upstairs had been eerily silent, so was the ground level. Every room, every hall – it was all empty, and devoid of life. Even the plants and vines that decorated their home hung limply, deep into a slumber that even Alma couldn’t seem to awaken them from.  
  
_‘No one is here…’_ Alma realized, as a heavy, sinking feeling began to fill his chest. He had thought he had heard his father earlier-  
  
A cool gust of air brushed passed Alma, and he shuddered. He looked around, as he tried to determine the source of cold air. Why was it so cold? It was never this cold at home…  
  
Alma stilled, as his attention landed on a silvery, slate-colored door: the door that led to the chamber below the estate.  
  
Alma stared. The door was cracked open – something that should have never been done. Everyone in Alma’s family always made sure that the door was closed and sealed. But now it was slightly ajar, with a cool breeze coming from within.  
  
Something about the sight caused Alma’s heart rate to increase.  
  
Carefully, Alma approached the door. Out of habit, he placed his hand on it, waiting for the glyphs to illuminate with their normal teal glow. However, they remained dull and lifeless. A frown appeared on Alma’s face and he started downstairs.  
  
It was difficult to see. A few times, Alma almost tripped; he had to keep his hand on the wall, squinting his eyes as he peered into the darkness below.   
  
Again, a chill passed through Alma. He shuddered.  
  
As he entered into the chamber, Alma tried to focus his vision. There was a faint glow though – one that Alma could see was coming from the globe that his parents usually used to monitor the lands and mortal realm.  
  
Quietly, Alma walked over to it. It was the only source of light in the empty chamber, and like a moth drawn to a flame, Alma could not look away. The globe was always pretty; it shifted and turned, illuminating different places and lands. It was the closest glimpse of the outside world that Alma could ever truly receive.  
  
Stopping before it, Alma looked at the globe. His eyes lingered on the sphere, as he remained transfixed _‘It’s always so pretty…’_ Alma thought, as he brought his fingers to touch it-  
  
Immediately, the globe shifted.  
  
Instead of the gentle blue light that emitted from the globe, it was now a strange, poisonous violet. The light darkened, with several sparks of electricity jolting from the sphere, searing against Alma’s hand and sizzling into the air.  
  
Alma gasped as he tore his hand back. Clutching his hand close, he looked at it.  
  
Alma’s heart nearly stopped.  
  
Veins. Thin, spider-like veins traced throughout his fingertips, and throughout his hand; they glowed ultraviolet, and looked as though they were beginning to spread. Up Alma’s wrist, onto his forearm…  
  
Alma panicked. His other hand was infected as well, but it didn’t stop him from clawing at his own skin, rubbing as though he could somehow brush it away. “Get off,”_ _Alma tried to shout, his words coming out shakily. “Get off-!”  
  
The veins continued to spread though, causing Alma’s flesh to look like cracked stone. He looked up, eyes fearful as his attention returned to the globe-  
  
It was crumbling. It was crumbling to dust.  
  
Gradually, the chamber seemed to darken even more around Alma. Fear trickling throughout him, Alma looked back at his hands, which were beginning to look gray and lifeless,   
  
Again, Alma tried to pull and rub at his skin in a desperate attempt to make whatever was happening stop. “Stop!” Alma shouted. “Just _stop_-!”  
  
_“I said _stop_!” Alma shouted, as he jolted upward.  
  
There was no response, and Alma blinked. It took him a moment to register his surroundings, though soon enough, he came to. Soft, silky bedsheets were crumpled around him, and candles illuminated his surroundings in a gentle glow.  
  
His room. Alma was in his room – or at least, the room that the Noah had given him.  
  
Alma exhaled, breath deep and shaky. His skin felt cold, though sweat clung to his back in an unpleasant way.  
  
_‘A…a dream?’_ Alma realized, as he tried to understand what had just happened. He had thought he was home, and then he had been in that chamber…  
  
Eyes widening, Alma looked at his hands. Both were normal.  
  
Alma sighed in relief. It had only been a dream after all.  
  
Alma leaned back onto the bed, as he tried to relax. However, his adrenaline was still be rushing and keeping him alert. It also didn’t help with how _sticky_ the cold sweat caused Alma to feel; the sheets pressed against his skin uncomfortably, and more than anything Alma had the sudden urge to wash off.  
  
Taking a small breath, Alma pushed himself to get up. Maybe cleaning off would make him feel better.  
  
It was at this moment that Alma was particularly relieved that he had been placed in a room with a bathing room attached – it spared him the unease of having to go too far to find one. As always, the bathing room smelled of sweet oils, with steam kissing Alma’s face the moment he walked inside. Already, Alma could feel the moisture in the air as it clung to his skin, with the warmth inviting to every fiber in Alma’s being.  
  
Shutting the door behind him, Alma removed his clothing and casted them aside. He walked over to the bathing pool, testing the water with his foot before dipping down into it. Alma had to move a bit slowly, as his body adjusted; the water was hot, but not so much that it was scalding.  
  
Alma sat down against the pool’s edge. He took a deep breath, inhaling what seemed to be the scent of patchouli and sandalwood. It filled his lungs, allowing for a small sense of calm to wash over him. It was a bit of an unusual sensation; the bathing pool always seemed the one place that Alma could find any peace and maintain any real privacy.  
  
Closing his eyes, Alma slunk down a bit. _‘This feels nice…’_  
  
Alma wasn’t sure how long he remained there for. At some point, he could feel himself begin to nod off, his consciousness melting away as his world turned dark. Alma was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, with the water occasionally lapping against him, and the hard, tiled edge of the pool pressing against his shoulders.  
  
Gentle. Lulling.   
  
Alma took in another breath. Again, he could feel the scents of those oils spilling down his throat, relaxing his muscles even more as the tension slipped away.   
  
Gingerly, Alma ran his hands over his arms beneath the water, before a hand ran over his leg. As he did this, Alma’s mind wandered, as he recalled the last time that he felt any warmth similar to this – the last time he had felt _anything_…  
  
Before he could stop himself, Alma’s thoughts wandered to the previous day.  
  
Tyki – Tyki had been close to Alma. Too vividly, Alma could still recall the way the Noah had placed an arm around him, strong and supportive as he guided Alma back to his room. He had been surprisingly gentle, really; Tyki’s grasp had been firm, but never rough, and he never once flinched when Alma fell to pieces. Even when Alma had so pathetically clung to Tyki…  
  
Warm. Tyki’s skin had been warm.   
  
In Alma’s thigh, he felt a twitch. His fingers pressed down onto the inner flesh as a surge of heat filled his veins. Alma’s fingers didn’t stop there though, as they moved along, tracing upward until the tips grazed against his shaft.  
  
Alma paused, as his touch lingered. There was still a small twitch in his thigh, spreading into his groin and down into his toes. He could feel his heart begin to race, and his stomach knotted up, his senses hyper aware and his fingers rested against his shaft.  
  
Alone. Alma remembered that he was _alone_ \- he told himself that he was alone.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma gripped at his length. He squeezed gently.  
  
A shudder rippled throughout Alma as he closed his eyes. He continued to pump himself, his motions slow and a bit shaky. The steam continued to caress his face, and a bright flush began to color his cheeks.  
  
In. Out. Alma had to remind himself to breathe.  
  
Head tilting back a bit, Alma shut his eyes. He was still moving his hand along his shaft, squeezing and massaging his thumb against the head. A jolt of heat flared throughout Alma, with a tingle spilling down his legs.  
  
Golden eyes. He was thinking of golden eyes...  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, as he started to pump himself harder-  
  
There was a knock on the bathroom door, causing Alma to jump. Water splashed as he gripped the tiled edge, with Alma completely startled as his coherency began to return.  
  
“Alma?” a voice asked, of whom Alma quickly recognized - Lala.  
  
Alma swallowed, as he tried to steady himself. “Y-yeah?” he asked, face still flushed with heat as he tried to calm himself. Why was Lala looking for him _now_?  
  
There was a slight pause, before Alma could hear Lala’s response through the door. “You’ve been in there for a while - are you alright?”  
  
Alma blinked._ Had_ he been in the bath for a long time? He knew that he had dozed off at one point; perhaps he had lost track of time.   
  
Squirming slightly, Alma tried to ease himself. “I-I’m okay!” he stammered, though he could still feel his insides pulsating heatedly. “I’ll be getting out in just a minute!”   
  
There was a small “okay” Alma could hear in response, and he shifted his body a bit. There was still the tingling, but otherwise, Alma could feel himself relaxing again. It took a few moments, causing him to move a bit more slowly than normal, but eventually Alma was able to get out of the bath and dry himself off.  
  
It was then that Alma realized what exactly he had been doing.  
  
Alma’s face burned. Oh god. Oh god, what had he been _doing_? Alma shook his head, as he was suddenly too embarrassed to even think about it. He couldn’t.   
  
Still wrapped in a towel, Alma went to open the door. To his surprise Lala was there, holding what appeared to be some new clothing. But, instead of the warm creams that Alma wore the fabric was cooler in tone and silvery.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at Lala confusedly. “Is everything okay?” he asked, when he noticed the somewhat uncertain expression Lala wore.   
  
Lala hesitated, before she placed the clothing down on the bed. “I know you’re not comfortable in the style of the clothing that the Noah wear, but this is still a chiton,” she explained, before turning back to Alma. “You picked a good time to clean up...Lord Millennium wishes to speak with you.”  
  
As soon as Alma heard this, he felt his body go rigid, his stomach tightening nauseously. “Lord Millennium wants to see me?” Alma asked, the words coming out in a choke as he attempted to force them out.   
  
Lord Millennium. In the few weeks Alma has been in the Underworld, he had never once come face to face with the head of the Noah family. Truthfully, Alma had thought the Millennium Earl was simply too busy to bother with Alma – Road had essentially said such the day before. Even when she had said that Lord Millennium was looking forward to meeting Alma…Alma hadn’t thought that the Earl would actually _want_ to meet him, let alone waste his time on Alma. Even the other Noah didn’t appear too fond of wasting much time on Alma.  
  
Needless to say...Alma couldn’t think of _why_ the Earl would want to see him.  
  
Lala glanced between Alma and the clothing she had placed on the bed. “I’ll let you get dressed, but I’ll be right back. You want to make sure to be especially presentable for him,” she explained. “Lord Millennium is a bit...particular.”  
  
Alma swallowed and nodded.   
  
Lala didn’t say anything more, as she stepped out of the room soon after.   
  
Alma released a breath, shoulders trembling slightly in unease. His eyes shifted, as they moved back to the clothing that Lala had brought for him.  
  
Alma didn’t know what to expect. He had no idea what the Millennium Earl was like. He had no idea what the Earl _wanted.  
  
_Either way, Alma wasn’t looking forward to his meeting with the Earl.

* * *

  
  
  
“The Earl is just this way.”  
  
Alma glanced around, as he followed Lala. They were in an area of the castle that Alma was not familiar with, with the ceilings high and ribbed with onyx vaulting. The walls stretched upward, smooth and illuminated with torches. Windows could also be seen, lining each wall; they were narrow, and filled in with stained glass. Dark, rich gemstone colors, but stained glass all the same.  
  
Alma stared as his eyes skimmed over the windows. They were intricately detailed and beautiful in their design; each panel of windows showed what appeared to be an array of constellations and stars. None of them were any kind that Alma was familiar with, and a part of him wondered if the designs may have been a bit abstract.  
  
Quickly, Alma continued walking. He had to made sure to keep up with Lala, as he fought the urge to get distracted. Alma knew a part of it was instinctual, though; Alma wanted to stall. He didn’t want to meet with the Earl just yet.  
  
A nervous tremor rippled throughout Alma, and he clasped at the front of the chiton Lala had brought him. The fabric was very fine and silky. Although it was an opaque silver, something about the fabric caused it to feel translucent against Alma’s body. He wasn’t sure why; it didn’t expose him anymore than his other chitons and was still held at the waist with a thin, amethyst-encrusted belt.  
  
Perhaps Alma only felt more vulnerable because he was seeing the Millennium Earl.  
  
As Alma thought about this, his pulse quickened anxiously. He still didn’t know why the Earl wanted to see him, and Lala didn’t appear to know the reason either.  
  
_‘What would he want?’_ Alma wondered, as he continued to followed Lala. He silently went through all the possible reasons he could, but again, Alma came up short. _‘Ugh. I don’t have any idea…’_  
  
Lala soon stopped – too soon for Alma’s comfort really. When Alma looked he could see that they had stopped in front of a pair of dark, double doors. In the hall’s dim lighting, Alma could just make out what appeared to be some sort of engravings on the door – glyphs, which were similar to the other kinds that he had also seen around the castle.  
  
Lala turned back to Alma, as she stepped aside. “Lord Millennium will be inside. He said for you to go in as soon as you arrived,” she explained, before looking at Alma somewhat worriedly. “Would you like me to wait for you?”  
  
Alma hesitated. His impulse was to say _yes_, and if he could have his way, he would have begged Lala to go inside with him. However, Alma didn’t know how long the Earl would want to see him for, and the thought of making Lala wait caused him to feel guilty.  
  
Somehow, that guilt outweighed Alma’s own fear.  
  
Alma forced a small smile. “Ah, it’s okay,” he said, though the words hardly sounded convincing. “I’ll just see you later?”  
  
Lala looked somewhat hesitant. For a moment Alma thought that made she would have even insisted on staying – a selfish, silent desire that Alma found himself to be holding. However, Lala finally nodded in agreement.  
  
“Alright,” Lala said, before her eyes flickered to the door briefly. “Good luck.”  
  
Alma nodded as he managed a small thanks before Lala took her leave. He then returned his attention to the double doors, his heartbeat racing and his insides knotting nauseously.  
  
_‘Go in. Lala said I needed to just go in. But should I still knock?’_ Alma wondered, as he bit his lip. Would it be considered rude to simply walk in? Or would it be rude to ignore the instructions Lala had been given? Alma had always been taught it was polite to knock, but now, he wasn’t sure what the Noah would consider polite…  
  
Shakily, Alma took the door handle. Before he could think twice, he forced himself to pull it open.  
  
Inside, it was dark. A dark room with barely any lightning. Alma didn’t even know where to go at first; he looked around in confusion, completely at a loss as he took a step inside the room.  
  
“Hello?” Alma called, as he took a few more steps. As he looked around some more, he could see a long, narrow table a small distance away, with a dimly lit candelabra glowing. “Hello, is-“  
  
A low chuckle could be heard, causing Alma to stop mid-sentence.   
  
“Welcome,” a voice said, low and a little raspy. “Please – have a seat at the table.”  
  
Alma wavered. He could feel every hair on his body stand as his unease continued to fester. However, Alma’s eyes returned to the table – where he assumedly was supposed to go.  
  
Chest tightening, Alma walked to the table. With how long it was, it almost reminded Alma of some sort of dinner table; it was covered with a deep purple velvet, though nothing else was on it save for the candelabra. There were also hardly any chairs – only two, with one at each head. Alma chose the seat closest and sat himself, where he waited for whatever was to come next.  
  
The clicking of heels could be heard as steady, even footsteps filled the air. They echoed in Alma’s ears like an ominous beacon that radiated danger. Because of this, Alma looked down, too nervous to see who it was.  
  
Eventually, someone walked to the table.  
  
Alma listened, as the sound of the chair pulling back reached his ears. By this point, Alma’s heart was pounding so hard that he was worried that whoever was there at the table would hear it; he was just so anxious, and he didn’t know what would _happen…_  
  
“Well, well. We finally meet at last,” the voice said – the same one that Alma had heard just moments before. “Though it’d be more proper if you’d bother to look up.”  
  
The words were spoken lightly – amiable, even. But the implication remained: Alma’s aversion was being interpreted as rudeness. Immediately Alma panicked, looking up somewhat abruptly as an apology lingered on the tip of his tongue.  
  
Alma stilled, as soon as he came face to face with the trademark yellow eyes of the Noah.  
  
A man. He was a man who looked to be middle-aged with the same, richly colored skin as the rest of the Noah and sharp, chiseled features. There was a slight stubble along his jaw, and his hair was dark and haphazardly pushed back. He was also dressed quite nicely, with the fabrics of his clothing a jet black while he wore what looked to be a coat of gold.  
  
Smiling, the man spoke to Alma. “There – now I can at least see your face,” the man said, before he took note of Alma’s appearance, an approving look in his eyes. “I see you’re finally wearing some of the clothing we gave you. That silver fabric suits you nicely – you’re as lovely as a moonflower.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at the man uncertainly. He seemed oddly informal in his mannerisms, and the way in which he complimented Alma was…unsettling. Alma couldn’t say he liked the man comparing him to a moonflower.  
  
Alma swallowed. “You’re…Lord Millennium?” he asked, as he eyed the man warily.  
  
“In the flesh,” the Earl answered. He grinned charmingly at Alma. “I apologize – you’ve already been here so long, and I’ve not once come to welcome you. It can be quite tedious running the Underworld, I have to admit.”  
  
Alma shifted a bit in his seat, as he tugged at the fabric of his clothing. He averted his gaze. “That’s…that’s fine.”  
  
The Earl placed an elbow on the table, as he rested his chin in his hand. “So – how are you enjoying your stay here?” the Earl asked, tone still pleasant. “From what I hear, it’s been a bit of excitement since you’ve arrived.”  
  
As the Earl said this, Alma looked up perplexedly.   
  
“You know,” the Earl continued, as he motioned with his hand. “That whole fiasco when you destroyed that hall your first day here, and then that little incident in the lounge yesterday…”  
  
Alma tensed, quickly realizing what events it was that the Earl was referring to. “I,” he began to say, as he tried to stammer out a response. “I – that was an accident, I didn’t mean to-“  
  
The Earl shook his hand. “Oh, no, no – you’re not in trouble for that,” the Earl eased, as he chuckled lowly. “Of course, I can’t have you doing something like that _again_. Not when you’ll be staying here for an indefinite amount of time. Can’t have my family’s home getting destroyed now, can we?”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, as the word _indefinite_ rang in his ears.  
  
The Earl brought a second elbow onto the table, as he locked his hands together thoughtfully. “Now, I thought this would be a good chance for us to…go over some things,” he began to explain. “You’ve already been here several weeks, but I think some boundaries need to be re-established. For everyone’s sake.”  
  
Alma’s eyes remained on the Earl uncertainly. “Boundaries…?” he asked, not entirely sure as to what the Earl meant.  
  
A sigh escaped the Earl, as he tilted his head a bit. “We’re already trying _so hard_ to accommodate you,” the Earl drawled, as he began to count with his fingers. “You’re picky with your food, picky with your clothing – we even went out of our way to give you one of the nicer rooms in the caste. And yesterday you _still_ insult my family when they were only trying to be nice to you. It’s not a very gracious way to act.”  
  
Alma stared, mouth agape. _This_ was what the Earl had summoned Alma for? Alma didn’t even know how to react, but he could feel his flush face from the embarrassment of being accused in such a way – especially when the Earl was _twisting_ the context of the events.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma tried to speak. “That – that’s _not_ how it is,” Alma attempted to explain as he looked back at the Earl. “Yesterday everyone was _baiting_ me – they wouldn’t stop talking about my family, and-“  
  
The Earl clicked his tongue in distaste. “Such a childish thing to push the blame on others,” he said. “You see, I’m just here to make sure everyone gets _along_. And you’re making that quite difficult.”  
  
Alma could feel himself becoming more flustered, as he tried to get a word in. “I’m not trying to-“  
  
“I know, I know,” the Earl said. “You’re doing your best, I’m sure. But given how things have been progressing with your family, it seems you’ll be with us for quite some time. And in staying here, you need to follow some rules – which includes no out of control powers, and no insults to my family.”  
  
Alma looked over at the Earl, his next words spilling out quickly. “But you could change that, couldn’t you?” Alma asked, tone turning urgent. “The reason I’m here – that contract – you could change it and let me go back, couldn’t you?”  
  
The Earl went quiet as he stared at Alma. For a moment, the room was silent.  
  
Then, the Earl began to laugh.  
  
Alma watched, as the Earl continued to bubble over with laughter. A frown pulled at Alma’s mouth, as he felt the Earl’s amusement sting his very core.   
  
Collecting himself, the Earl tried to stop his laughed. “Forgive me,” the Earl spoke, as a few more tuffs of laughter trickled out. “But you must realize how naive you sound – it’s actually somewhat endearing.”  
  
Expression fracturing a bit, Alma’s eyes turned pleading. “But…but you _could_ change it, couldn’t you?” Alma asked, not sure why the Earl was avoiding a direct answer. “Please, if I’m causing so much trouble, just let me go home to my family-!”  
  
The Earl shook his head, as another chuckle fell from his lips. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” the Earl said, his gaze turning sharp. “You see, the thing about _negotiation_ that you’re failing to grasp is that there must be an appeal. There must be a draw. But sending you back? There is no draw. Not when it’s more valuable to have you here.”  
  
After a small pause the Earl continued. “Your family has caused a tremendous amount of grief for us – trapping us here, and locking us in,” the Earl said. His yellow eyes locked with Alma’s. “Surely you can imagine how _horrible_ that must be?”  
  
Alma faltered. “They-“  
  
“If they don’t want to agree to our terms to have you sent back, then that’s their own doing,” the Earl stated. He then smiled at Alma, eyes gleaming. “Really, you should think of it as an _honor_ – we don’t have guests stay with us often, and we have never housed a Chang before. You’re the first to even see inside our home.”  
  
“But I don’t _want_ to be here!” Alma broke, no longer able to control himself. “Please, just let me _go_ – I haven’t even _done anything_!”  
  
The Earl’s eyes flashed as his more casual demeanor appeared to lessen. Eyes narrowing, he spoke. “You’ve done a bit more than that – like right now,” the Earl pointed out, a hint of disapproval in his words. “Complaining and insulting – weren’t you at least raised to be more respectable? You’re acting as though we’ve placed you in some terrible prison.”  
  
Alma’s blue eyes shifted, as a flare of frustration flooded him. “Because you _have_!” Alma snapped, his patience finally gone. “This _is_ a prison and _I hate it_! It’s terrible, and dark, and you are all nothing but _monsters_-“  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to finish.  
  
The air turned cold, and the candelabra flickered. A gust of wind slammed against Alma’s body, like of a wave of ice washing over him. He grimaced, completely drawing to a halt in his speech as a shiver wracked his whole, seeping deep into his bones and very core.  
  
“Monster?” the Earl asked, voice low.   
  
Alma blinked his eyes opened as he looked back at the Earl.  
  
The Earl’s eyes remained an ugly, venomous yellow, as he peered at Alma from across the table. His skin seemed to have shifted, melding into a strange, discolored shade, and a noticeable _darkness_ loomed about the Earl, before he snapped at Alma.  
  
“If you’re expecting something monstrous, I can certainly give you _that_!”  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to react. Right before his eyes, the Earl’s appearance shifted, stretching and contorting until he hardly resembled a man at all. No longer was the figure before Alma the well-dressed man he had been speaking to; instead a grotesque caricature of a person was seated in his place, with a large, rotund statute and ashen-colored skin. Long, inhumanly pointed ears stuck out from his head, and his face was long and narrow. A permanent, toothy grin was plastered below flaring nostrils, and two bulbous protrusions could be seen appearing from his head.  
  
At that moment, every hint of color drained from Alma’s face.  
  
In a flash of movement, the Earl moved – he moved more quickly than Alma could see. Before Alma could blink, the Earl’s monstrous form was suddenly beside him, tall and looming as he stood over where Alma was seated.  
  
“Tell me,” the Earl said, words dangerously low as his voice rasped against Alma’s ears. “Does _this_ meet your expectations? Is this _monstrous_ enough for you?”  
  
Alma stared, wide-eyed and horrified. The Earl was _repulsive_ – more so than anything Alma had ever seen. His skin looked so aged and leathery, and there was a putrid scent lingering about. It was so revolting that Alma couldn’t stand to look – yet there he was, staring and completely _petrified_.  
  
Too far. Alma had gone too far. He had gone too far, and he had angered the Earl.  
  
Upon receiving Alma’s silence, the Earl slammed a hand on one of the arm rests of Alma’s chair, nails long and yellow-stained. “_Answer me_!”  
  
Alma jumped, as he hurriedly broke eye contact with the Earl, turning his face away. His shoulders shook though, as fresh waves of adrenaline pumped through his blood, gripping his heart as his muscles remained locked in place.   
  
_‘Apologize!’_ a small voice pleaded from the back of Alma’s mind. _‘Just apologize-!’_  
  
The Earl’s displeasure radiated, as his beady yellow eyes glowered down at Alma. “You have the audacity to think that you and your family are somehow superior to us _monsters_ when _we_ were gods long before you ever were!” the Earl snarled, his withered hand gripping at Alma’s chair. “Since arriving here you have been nothing but an ungrateful and disrespectful child – but rest assured that you _will_ do as you’re told, and you _will_ know your place here!”  
  
Alma continued to tremble, as he attempted to push himself as far from the Earl as he could. Unfortunately, he could only do so much being trapped in his chair, with the Earl’s anger blustering into Alma like a tumultuous storm.   
  
“I’m sorry!” Alma finally broke, voice cracking as the apology came out as more of a desperate plea. “Just please – _please_ stop yelling! I really _am_ sorry!”  
  
The Earl didn’t say anything, as Alma’s shallow, quivering breaths continued to fill the air. They were uneven, and strained; Alma was trying _so hard_ to keep himself together in that moment, and to hold onto whatever shred of dignity he had left. But, Alma could barely do that much. He was too frightened of what the Earl would do, or how else the Earl might react.  
  
A moment passed, and the Earl released a sigh, anger seemingly dissipating. He released his grip on the armrest of Alma’s chair, gray, leathery flesh shifting back to dark, umber skin.  
  
“It seems you are,” the Earl acknowledged, appearance melting back into that of his human form.   
  
The Earl walked back to his seat after that, pace more stead and even. As he sat down, he exhaled, resting his chin against his hand. “Do forgive me – sometimes I get a bit carried away,” the Earl offered, words honeyed with perfectly schooled sympathy.   
  
Alma was still looking away. He couldn’t help it; his body wouldn’t stop shaking, and he couldn’t wipe the image of the Earl’s monstrous form his eyes – he just _couldn’t_.  
  
The Earl didn’t make any note of Alma’s resistance to make eye contact and continued. “How about we start over? Wipe the slate clean,” the Earl suggested, as he smiled over at Alma. “I’ll look past your previous behavior, so long as you behave yourself from now on. Just be pleasant and respectful – sound fair? I’ll even indulge this little _arrangement_ you have with receiving food from the above world, so you don’t have to eat anything from here.”  
  
Alma bit his lip, as he tried to keep himself steady. Mutely, he nodded his head.  
  
The Earl clapped his hands together and laughed merrily. “Wonderful!” the Earl exclaimed, as he grinned over at Alma. “I’m so pleased that we finally had this chance to talk. I was worried I was going to have to add another binding to your ankle.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma finally dared to look up at the Earl, eyes questioning. However, the question lodged itself in his throat, with Alma’s tongue tying up before he could try to speak.  
  
Alma’s confusion didn’t go missed, and the Earl elaborated. “Oh – we had that one binding placed on you so you couldn’t go outside without supervision. Some of my other kin thought stripping your powers would be more appropriate, but I wanted to spare you the humiliation of that,” the Earl said, before a dark shadow flickered in his eyes. “Of course, if you act up again…I won’t be opposed to it.”  
  
Alma’s insides twisted. His heart dropped into his stomach.  
  
The Earl smiled amiably. “Well then, I suppose that’s it for this chat,” he said, as he dismissed Alma. “Run along now, little Moonflower.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. Honestly, a small part of Alma didn’t think the Earl would actually let him leave, and perhaps that it was some cruel trick that the Earl was about to play.  
  
But, the Earl made no move, and Alma stood. And when the Earl still said nothing, Alma hurried out of the room.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
As soon as Alma was in the hallway, he ran.  
  
He didn’t know how long he ran for, but Alma didn’t care. He just needed to get away from the Earl – he needed to get as far away from the Earl as possible. Too vividly Alma could still recall the second form that the Millennium Earl had taken on, with his grotesque appearance and decaying stench. The mere memory was enough to make Alma sick, and the thought of having to ever see him _again_…  
  
Alma clamped his hand over his mouth as bile threatened to rise in the back of his throat. He ceased running as he leaned against the wall, waiting for the nausea to pass. Closing his eyes, Alma took several deep breaths.  
  
No. No, if Alma saw the Earl again, he’d be in a human form, wouldn’t he? Alma didn’t know though. Human, monster – the Earl was unpredictable. He wasn’t safe.   
  
_“Some of my other kin thought stripping your powers would be more appropriate, but I wanted to spare you the humiliation of that. Of course, if you act up again…I won’t be opposed to it.”_  
  
Alma shuddered, as the Earl’s final warning echoed in his ears. His powers. The Earl had mentioned possibly stripping Alma of his powers, but would he really do that? What _else_ would the Earl do if Alma angered him again?  
  
Alma could feel his anxiety spiraling. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to _think_. Alma had clearly messed up too many times as it was and was walking on thin ice with the whole Noah family. It didn’t help that they all seemed to detest him, with the Earl being no different – and now Alma had to be careful to make sure he _appeased_ them…  
  
Alma’s fists balled, as he leaned against the wall. He just wanted to _leave_…  
  
But, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave.  
  
Looking back, Alma realized he had been a fool to have even pleaded with the Millennium Earl. Just what had Alma expected? To be released, and sent home to his family? No. Of course the Noah would never allow it. They would never allow Alma to leave.  
  
The realization slammed into Alma with a crushing weight.  
  
Again, Alma felt sick. Legs growing weak, Alma kept himself steady against the wall, his mind growing dizzy as the reality sunk it.  
  
Maybe, Alma had been in denial. In his few weeks of being in the Underworld, he had repeatedly held onto the hope that his family would retrieve him – that the Order would intervene and force the Noah to return Alma back home. But now, after all this time, Alma was worried. He was worried, and after yesterday, with hearing about how his parents had refused to lower the barrier…  
  
What if Alma _never _made it back?  
  
The revelation was devastating. But the longer Alma thought about it, the more apparent it seemed: Alma wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and that was why the Earl had spoken with him. To set boundaries and to remind Alma of his place. To remind Alma that he was there to _stay_.  
  
_‘I’ll…I’ll never be able to go back…’_ Alma realized, as any trace of hope he had left began to crumble. _‘I’ll never see…’_  
  
The sun. The sky. Fou. His _family_.  
  
It was as though Alma’s heart was yanked out of his chest that very moment.  
  
Alma remained still, as he continued to lean against the wall, gradually sinking until he was on his knees, crumpled up and exhausted. He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, his expression distant and forlorn. His eyes remained dry, with the hollowness in his chest so prominent that Alma didn’t even have it in him to cry. He just…  
  
He was just too tired.  
  
Slowly, Alma closed his eyes. Tired. He was so tired, and he just wanted this all to _stop_…  
  
There was a gentle flutter in Alma’s ears.  
  
Alma blinked, as he opened his eyes. When he looked he was taken by surprise. Beside him, fluttering in the air, were two dark, inky butterflies. Their wings were of onyx, but in the dim lighting of the hall they shimmered with a rich, violet sheen – almost like darkened, iridescent dragon wings.   
  
Alma watched, as the butterflies hovered about in a mesmerizing way. He wasn’t sure what they were though, as he never had seen them before. Were they similar to golems, perhaps?  
  
One of the butterflies flew in front of Alma, almost as though to purposefully grab his attention. It then began to fly off, with the other in tow. The butterflies stopped just a few feet away though, before turning to where Alma was.  
  
Alma stared uncertainly. Were the butterflies trying to lead him somewhere? He glanced around. The area he was in was an unfamiliar one, and in running so quickly from the Earl’s room, Alma hadn’t paid attention to where he had fled. Uneasily, Alma realized that he wouldn’t know how to get back to his own room from where he was.  
  
The butterflies waited though. They waited for Alma.  
  
Turning back to the butterflies, Alma spoke. “Are you…trying to take me somewhere?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure if they’d even be able to understand him. “I don’t really know where to go from here…”  
  
Naturally, the butterflies made no response. They only fluttered their wings as they appeared to wait for Alma patiently.  
  
Somewhat shakily, Alma stood. As he did, the butterflies began to flutter off.  
  
Alma quickly tried to keep up. “Wait!” he said, as rushed to where the butterflies were going.  
  
The butterflies never flew too far ahead, with them always remaining in Alma’s sight. Because of this, they were easy for Alma to follow. They led him down the halls and through the corridors, twisting and turning through a maze of routes.   
  
At first, Alma wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake in following the butterflies. Maybe, they were leading him nowhere – or maybe they were leading Alma somewhere, and it wouldn’t be pleasant.  
  
However, the more time passed the more familiar Alma’s surroundings became. Soon, he was walking down a wide hallway with large windows that peered outside, with garden hedges visible and glinting bits of gemstones visible in the cavern sky.  
  
Up head, the butterflies stopped – just in front a pair of glass doors.  
  
Recognition filled Alma’s eyes, as he walked to the doors. “You brought me to the greenhouse?” Alma asked, as he brought a finger up to one of the butterflies. But, as soon as Alma’s finger touched it, it wisped into smoke – just before it re-materialized a short distance away.  
  
“You’re not like the butterflies up above…” Alma commented. For whatever reason, he didn’t feel as put off by them – possibly, because they had brought him to one of the few places he felt at ease in. Because of this, he smiled at them, a hint of appreciation in his eyes. “Thanks…for guiding me here.”  
  
The butterflies only hovered, as Alma went inside of the greenhouse. Alma held the door open for the butterflies to follow though, allowing it to shut behind him.   
  
The light and the warmth of the greenhouse immediately caressed Alma, feeling him with a comfort that he was all but desperate to drink up. The citrine lanterns glowed softly, as the sapphire and topaz ceiling glimmered vibrantly. For a small, fleeting moment, Alma almost believed he was outside somewhere – somewhere far away, in the meadow, close to home…  
  
Alma couldn’t hold onto that fantasy for longer than a second.  
  
Walking over, Alma sat on the edge of the silver fountain, just near where some daffodils and roses were. In the water, Alma could also see several water lilies – all pale pink and ivory, as they floated about in the crystal-clear water. Alma stared, watching as they floated along, his thoughts drifting with them.  
  
In the back of his mind, Alma remembered his interaction with the Earl.  
  
An uneasy tension trickled throughout Alma, disrupting whatever peace he might have been able to salvage. _‘Stop,’ _Alma silently chided, as he tried to fight the image of the Earl’s horrid appearance from his mind. _‘Just…stop….’_  
  
“How’d it go?”  
  
Alma gasped, completely startled by the voice. He turned, gripping the edge of the fountain as he kept himself from falling, and looked up with wide eyes at who had spoken-  
  
Tyki was standing there, looking rather bemused – likely due to Alma’s startled reaction. A smirk tugged at his lips, as his molten irises peered down at Alma. “Did I scare you?” he asked, words teasing.  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. For a moment, all he could do was _stare_ – he could only stare as his pulse throbbed loudly in his ears, and his face heated in a small flush. Quickly, Alma tried to repress these sensations, as his expression shifted into a pout-like scowl. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think I was doing?” he asked, before a grin stretched across his face. “It’s not my fault you were spacing out.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma’s face flushed even more, and he turned away.  
  
Tyki watched, as Alma stubbornly avoided eye contact while remaining seated on the edge of the fountain. Tyki soon took notice of the butterflies though, which were still hovering beside Alma.  
  
“I see you found the teases alright,” Tyki said. “Or at least, they found you.”  
  
Alma turned, as he looked back at Tyki. “What?” he asked, not quite understanding what Tyki meant.   
  
Tyki pointed to the butterflies. “Those. They’re called teases,” Tyki explained. “Good for a lot of things. But I thought they’d be a good guide for you in case the doll girl wasn’t around.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he registered what Tyki was saying. “You mean…you sent them?”  
  
Tyki’s grin broadened. “I might have,” he said, a somewhat playful hint in his words. “Now you don’t have any excuse to get lost. They’ll pretty much follow you whenever you want them around.”  
  
As Tyki said this, a small skip could be felt in Alma’s chest. He glanced over at the two butterflies – or _teases_, as Tyki had called them. _‘He…really is giving those to me…?’_  
  
Before Alma could manage even a thank you, Tyki crossed his arms. “So, tell me – how did it go?” Tyki asked, as he repeated his initial question. “I heard you met our beloved Lord Millennium today – did he meet all of your expectations? Must have been an honor for you.”  
  
Once the words were out, Alma’s whole body stiffened.  
  
_“Tell me,” the Earl said, words dangerously low as his voice rasped against Alma’s ears. “Does _this_ meet your expectations? Is this _monstrous_ enough for you?”_  
  
Suddenly, Alma could feel himself strain to breathe as his muscles tensed. Suddenly, all Alma could think about was being seated at that table, trapped helplessly as the Earl shifted into some kind of monster. Trapped helplessly as he was shouted at, and backed into a corner…  
  
Breathing was difficult, and Alma couldn’t speak.   
  
Tyki watched. His amused expression gradually died, melting into a frown as he noticed the way Alma seemed to withdraw from responding. It was a bit unexpected; Tyki may have expected an awkward or uneasy response, but Alma was beginning to shut down. His breaths were shallow and shoulders shaking, and his eyes were beginning to take on a glassy appearance.  
  
Inside, Tyki felt something lurch.  
  
Kneeling down in front of Alma, Tyki eyed him carefully. It was at this point he noticed how pallid Alma suddenly appeared, the color having left his face in a matter of mere seconds. Honestly, it was an unpleasant sight; paleness didn’t suit Alma.  
  
Still frowning, Tyki placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder-  
  
Alma flinched, pulling away sharply.  
  
Tyki stilled. He was somewhat stunned by the reaction. It was almost as though Alma had been struck, wincing as though he were attempting to escape a searing pain. But, Tyki hadn’t hurt Alma – at least, not really. Perhaps he had been a bit rough their first few encounters, but since then…  
  
Tyki sighed, as he lowered his hand. For a moment, he wondered if it was worth it to stay.  
  
“He was frightening.”  
  
Tyki blinked, as he look back at Alma. Alma’s gaze was still though, blue eyes distant and misty.  
  
“He was…” Alma began to say, as tried desperately to steady his own voice. “He…he looked like you and the other Noah at first. But then I made him angry, and he…he _changed_.”  
  
As Alma said this, he could hear his voice fracture, as a shallow breath spilled forward. “I didn’t mean to cause that, but it was _horrible_-“  
  
Another crack. Another falter.  
  
Tyki watched. For the second day in a row, he watched as Alma began to crumble – though this time, Tyki had a better understanding of why.   
  
“So,” Tyki said, voice low and even. “Lord Millennium did a little shapeshifting and gave you a scare, huh? Should have known that may have happened.”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, as he continued to try to hold himself together. He was still clearly distraught though, and even Tyki could see that much.  
  
Exhaling softly, Tyki spoke. “You’re so riled up over this,” he said, the words more gentle than they were demeaning. “It’s over now.”  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. Over. It was over like Tyki said, but Alma couldn’t stop _thinking_…  
  
Very gingerly, Alma felt a hand brush against his own. It was such a gentle, tender touch – Alma didn’t even flinch. He only stilled before he looked back at Tyki, blue eyes bewildered.  
  
Immediately, Alma’s gaze locked with Tyki’s. Bright, cerulean blue that poured into searing molten gold.  
  
Alma stared. He didn’t know how long he was staring for, but he just couldn’t look away. Tyki was just _there_, kneeling in front of Alma so that they were eye level. Because of this, Alma found him taking in the details of Tyki’s appearance; the way his hair fell in soft, dark waves around his face, caressing his cheekbones and contrasting with his eyes…  
  
Taking his other hand, Alma somewhat shakily lifted it – almost as though he were reaching out to touch Tyki.  
  
Tyki caught Alma’s hand, clasping his own fingers into Alma’s. In doing this, Alma was suddenly aware of how _rough_ Tyki’s hands felt – like someone who had done a lot of outdoor work, or physical labor. Not like someone who spent the majority of their life in a castle.  
  
Heartbeat pounding, Alma’s eyes shifted back to Tyki’s. Neither of them said a word.  
  
The next thing Alma knew, Tyki leaned in to kiss him.  
  
It was gentle – it was more gentle than Alma could have ever imagined it being. Tenderly, Tyki’s lips pressed against Alma, as he clasped his hand into Alma’s – a securing motion, and one that caused Alma’s insides to flutter.  
  
Eyes closing, Alma sighed into the kiss. Like a rainfall that had passed, he could feel the tension slip away from his very being, as he melted into the experience-  
  
_‘What if he’s a monster too?’_  
  
Like a knife, the thought slipped into Alma’s head with a cutting smoothness. Just as quickly as the tension had left, it returned, with Alma’s going rigid as he pulled back abruptly.  
  
Hands still interlocked, Alma stared at Tyki, with the realization of what had just happened scorching his expression.  
  
Alma only stared long enough to catch a glimpse of the confusion in Tyki’s eyes, but Alma didn’t look any longer.   
  
Quickly, Alma tore his hands away, fleeing from the greenhouse before Tyki could stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We finally got a kiss! (I mean, it only took 120K? But who’s counting? XD)
> 
> This was a pretty lengthy chapter, but a lot happened in it. It was definitely time that Alma meet the Millennium Earl, though I struggled at first with figuring out just how I wanted that meeting to go. (I have Kitty Bandit to thank for helping me figure it out. <3) It’s definitely an unsettling scene, and there was honestly so much with it that made me uncomfortable. Even reading through it for edits I was squirmish - the Earl is just a very unpredictable character, with these very extreme ends of a personality. In a way, he feels a bit unstable - which makes him all the scarier to write. He can be polite and even congenial, but has some vicious anger simmering deep down. 
> 
> This of course causes a lot of turmoil for Alma. In a way, this is the point where it’s hitting him that he actually may be stuck in the Underworld for a lengthy time, and it’s devastating. Up until this point, Alma has really tried to hold onto that hope of getting taken back to the above world, but really, it’s just not in the cards right now. In a way it sort of contributes to how his feelings toward Tyki are developing; Tyki’s been the only one to offer Alma any comfort or support, and that largely contributes to that building attraction/fantasizing. 
> 
> That being said - the meeting with the Earl is also what causes Alma to pull back from Tyki when that kiss finally happens. While Alma does lose himself at first, he still remembers that Tyki is a Noah, and potentially just as dangerous/monstrous as the Earl is. It’s the source of some really conflicting emotions, which is muddled further by the fact that Alma has never been romantically involved with anyone in this AU before (and really, when you’re a teenager having your first set of romantic feelings, you KNOW there’s no clear thinking involved).
> 
> As for Tyki...well, he’s in deep. He’s in deep even by the first scene of this chapter with him and Sheril, and again, that’ll become more apparent soon. (Honestly, I actually was surprised by how soft their first kiss was - I had a few versions of it drafted, but to be honest this one just felt right for them. Hopefully that translated well to those reading.)
> 
> The next chapter I might post for New Year’s - we have one more before things really start kicking up. ;3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3


	18. An Evening Affair

It had been three weeks and no one had been able to recover Alma.  
  
Three weeks. Three weeks of sleepless nights and clouded thoughts. Three weeks of continuous worry and frenzied seeking. Three weeks of searching for loopholes, spells, _something_-  
  
Three weeks. Three weeks of failing.  
  
Twi didn’t know what to do. It had been two weeks since Sheril had been at the Order to give the Noah’s _ludicrous_demands in exchange for Alma’s freedom. It had been two weeks since the Noah’s appalling conditions had been made for the barrier to be lowered – all in exchange to have Alma returned home.  
  
It made Twi sick. It made her sick to think of it.  
  
A pawn. A bargaining chip. Alma was being _used_ – he was being used as a means to an end, and it was revolting.  
  
Twi’s hand balled into a fist as she paced about. She was in the chamber below the estate, having returned home not long after the disastrous “negotiation” that the Order had held with Sheril. There had been some resistance; the Order had expected Twi to _stay_ of all things. To stay and help rework the barrier, despite having just been told that there was no way to recover her youngest son.  
  
The mere notion had been infuriating.  
  
Taking in a sharp breath, Twi walked over to one of the chamber walls. She ran her hand over some of the glyphs with the symbols and lettering illuminating as they shifted. They melded in and out, reworking themselves into ancient spells and old words, archaic and near forgotten.   
  
Something. There had to be _something-_  
  
Twi looked. She didn’t know how long for, but she searched, sifting through writings in the wall, eyes tired as dark circles marred the flesh beneath her eyes. But Twi didn’t stop looking; she kept searching for some way, some tool – just _anything_.  
  
Anything. She would have taken anything, and she was only finding nothing.  
  
As her search turned fruitless, her actions grew in desperation. Maybe she had missed something, or maybe she wasn’t looking hard enough. Maybe, despite it having been several weeks of searching, she had _missed something-_  
  
_He was always so sweet. Alma just had that way about him; even as a young child that quality was apparent.   
  
“Mother, look what I made!” Alma exclaimed as he held up a wreath of flowers. They were small ones and mostly crocuses – but the six-year-old looked prideful nevertheless.  
  
Twi paused her work. Although she was technically busy managing some of the plants around the estate, it was difficult to ignore Alma. Even with how stern and focused Twi could be, she still never had it in her heart to ignore her children, let alone Alma.  
  
A smile appeared on Twi’s face, as her eyes shone with approval. “I see,” she said, words warm. “You did such a good job – have you shown your father and brother yet?”  
  
Alma beamed, completely ecstatic by his mother’s response. “No, I wanted to show you first! I made it for you!”  
  
The admission was heartwarming, so much that Twi almost didn’t even know how to respond. But her smile remained warm, as her eyes softened.   
  
“I love it,” Twi said. “I’ll be sure to take very good care of it.”  
  
Alma’s smile remained bright. “Just as good as you take care of me!”  
  
Another tug of warmth.   
  
“Yes,” Twi said. “Just as good as I take care of you.”  
  
_Twi hadn’t been able to take care of Alma though. Not when he needed it most.  
  
Frantic. By now, her searching was _frantic_ – she just wasn’t finding anything. She wasn’t finding anything to _help Alma._  
  
“Damn it,” Twi cursed, as her composure began to disintegrate. She then slammed her hands against the wall, frustration and desperation peaking. “_Damn it_!”  
  
From the stairs, Edgar descended. He was just as worn as Twi, though his eyes grew alert as soon as his attention landed on Twi. Immediately, an alarmed look flashed across his features as he rushed over to where Twi was.  
  
“Twi!” Edgar shouted, as he grabbed Twi from behind, pulling here away from the wall. “_Twi_!”  
  
Twi didn’t stop, as she struggled against Edgar’s grasp. By this point, her expression had crumbled, eyes red and uncharacteristically watery. “Let me go!” Twi shouted, as she fought back against Edgar’s hold. “I have to-“  
  
“Twi, _just stop_!” Edgar shouted as he refused to give in. Using all the strength he had, Edgar then pulled Twi away from the wall, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  
  
As soon as Edgar did this, a sob fell from Twi, her strength fleeing from her body. Exhaustion brimming from within, she and Edgar both fell to their knees as shallow, depleted cries wracked Twi’s body.  
  
Edgar never once let go, as he allowed his wife to cry. Twi didn’t cry often – even since Alma’s abduction she had fought the tears, forcing herself to stay strong and put on a tough face. But Edgar knew better than that – he knew that Twi had been breaking apart. Slowly, quietly. The pain was eating her alive.  
  
It was agonizing to witness.  
  
Gently, Edgar hushed Twi, as he held her close. “Twi,” Edgar said, words gentle. “Twi…if we tell the Order about what happened, if we tell them the truth-“  
  
Twi shook her head. “No,” ahe said, voice threatening to break as she looked back at Edgar. “No, we _can’t _– they’ll never bring him back if we tell them what happened. It’s been too long-“  
  
Edgar looked at Twi, eyes pleading. “Twi, we don’t know what else to do-“  
  
“We’ll do _something,_” Twi insisted. “I just need more time, and I’ll find a way-“  
  
“We’re running _out_ of time,” Edgar spoke, his words a knife into his own heart, twisting sharply and into his gut. The Order just sent word again. They want one of us to return to help Zuu and Bak with the barrier-“  
  
“I don’t care about the barrier!” Twi snapped, before she took a breath. Still somewhat shakily, she spoke. “The barrier, the lands – I will not do _anything_ until we get our son back. I _can’t_…”  
  
There was a _crack_, as Twi once again began to fall apart. Still holding her close, Edgar rocked her, pulling Twi into his arms as he ran a hand through her hair.  
  
Twi’s decision was final, but it was not one that Edgar disagreed with – because he felt the same.  
  
They would do something. They had to.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The Order was growing frustrated.  
  
Bak was at a loss for what to do. The Order had demanded that the barriers be re-evaluated, and possibly even reconstructed. However, for such to be done, Bak and Zuu alone wouldn’t be enough. His mother would need to assist as well, and possibly, even his father.  
  
Unfortunately, both Twi and Edgar had refused to obey, returning home shortly after the failed meeting with the Noah.  
  
Bak wasn’t sure if he was surprised. While his parents were not one to refuse the Order, the situation was tragic. Even Bak could barely hold himself together, the shock alone of what had happened having been enough to cover his body in a blanket of unsightly rashes. Yet here he was, supposedly expected to maintain an appearance. His composure. His dignity.  
  
Bak had no idea how the rest of his family did it.  
  
Heavily, Bak exhaled as he ran his hands over his face, sitting at his desk as he leaned forward. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t sleep. He had a _missing brother_ – god, how had it even happened? Alma was young, and a bit naïve, but even Alma knew not to trust the Noah…  
  
_‘Of all people…’_ Bak thought, as he clenched his jaw. _‘Of all people, why Alma…?’_  
  
Bak didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand why Alma had been a target. Was it because he was younger, and the Noah thought him weaker? Possibly. Or, perhaps something had happened when that one Noah (_‘Tyki,’_ Bak recalled with disgust) had spoken to Alma that day at the citadel.  
  
Bak didn’t know. But the situation made him feel helpless.  
  
“There’s nothing you can do,” Wong spoke, as he watched Bak continue to worry. “A blood contract is involved – even the Order has their hands tied.”  
  
Bak exhaled a second time, as he looked up at Wong. “It doesn’t make _sense,_” Bak explained. “Alma’s never even been _involved _in politics – he’s never done anything!”  
  
Wong frowned, expression grave. “Perhaps, that is why they took him,” Wong theorized. “Taking an innocent as collateral…it’s a terribly cruel tactic.”  
  
Bak sighed, as he scratched at the back of his neck, his hand rubbing against the raised, irritated flesh. “It’s worse than cruel…” Bak said, words heavy.   
  
Before Wong could say anything, there was a knock at the study’s door. Attending to it, Wong walked over to answer.  
  
A surprised look appeared on Wong’s face as soon as he saw who was on the other side.   
  
“Renee Epstein,” Wong said, as he stepped aside to let Renee in.  
  
Hearing this, Bak stood. He was equally surprised as he watched Renee walk in – she hardly ever spoke to Bak, let alone bothered to visit.  
  
Immediately, Bak felt himself turn defensive, as he readied to be attacked. “If this is about-“  
  
Renee’s eyes met Bak’s, her icy blue gaze enough to silence him almost immediately. However, the harshness in her expression didn’t appear as extreme, and when she spoke it was non-confrontational. “I didn’t come here to criticize your family’s absence,” Renee said.   
  
Bak’s brow furrowed, as he looked at Renee uncertainly. “Then may I ask what you’re here for?”  
  
Renee paused, as she held Bak’s gaze for a moment longer. “I came to offer condolences for what’s happened to your family,” she said, words even and collected. “We might not have spoken much, but I still respect your family and all they’ve done.”  
  
Bak blinked, somewhat caught off guard by the admission. He rubbed the back of his neck, still a bit wary of just…what had_ pushed_ Renee to come find him.  
  
“Ah, thank you,” Bak said, unsure of how else to respond. “It’s…been difficult for all of us.”  
  
As Bak said this, he felt his insides knot up. This conversation, the tone….it almost seemed as though….  
  
_‘As though Alma’s already gone for good…’_ Bak realized, as the sickening reality slammed into him.  
  
Renee nodded. “I spoke to your mother, just briefly before she left,” Renee went on. “Of course, with everything going on she wasn’t herself. But something…seemed strange to me.”  
  
Bak frowned, as he looked at Renee questioningly. However, he waited for her to continue.  
  
“I can’t say what it was. And perhaps, it is nothing,” Renee admitted, before continuing on. “But I can’t help but feel that…your mother didn’t tell me everything.”  
  
Bak stilled, as the implication sunk in. “You’re suggesting my family is withholding something?” he asked, the offense already beginning to seep into his words.  
  
“I’m not saying it’s true,” Renee said, as she eyed Bak sharply. “But, if for some reason they were…then it would make it difficult to help them in any way.”  
  
Bak’s expression remained pensive. “Well, if my parents are hiding something, I’m not aware,” Bak said, words remaining strong. “They aren’t the kind of people to do that – not with the Order.”  
  
“I never said they were,” Renee said. “But if you do find out anything…I’d hope you’d have the sense to say something. I can’t help the situation your brother is in if anything valuable is being withheld.”  
  
To this, Bak remained quiet, his thoughts spinning over Renee’s words.  
  
Renee took a breath. “I apologize for the intrusion – I’ll leave you now,” she said, as she turned back to the door. Before exiting, however, she glanced back at Bak.  
  
Renee said nothing more as she left.  
  
Once the door shut behind Renee, Wong turned to Bak. A grave expression was on his face. “You don’t think she was right, do you? Surely your family told the Order everything they knew.”  
  
Bak said nothing at first. He merely stared at the door, eyes contemplative as a thin frowned remained on his face.  
  
“I don’t know,” Bak finally admitted.  
  
_‘I don’t know…’  
_  
  


* * *

  
  
It had been close to a week since Alma had last seen Tyki.  
  
Alma felt terrible. He felt terrible for running, and terrible for _hiding_. That’s what he was doing: hiding, and avoiding. Alma couldn’t face Tyki after what had happened in the greenhouse. He couldn’t face Tyki after…  
  
_Tender lips. A gentle touch. Alma could feel himself slipping away, dissolving entirely as he melted into that kiss…_  
  
Alma shook his head, as he wrapped his arms around his legs, while he remained curled on the divan by the window. No. _No_, Alma couldn’t think about that kiss. He couldn’t think about the way his heart skipped at the mere memory, and his blood warmed when he thought of Tyki’s touch.   
  
He _couldn’t_…  
  
Biting his lip, Alma shut his eyes. Why? _Why_ had Alma even allowed Tyki to kiss him? t was such a mistake – Tyki was a _Noah_. A Noah who didn’t even care about Alma, and…  
  
_‘No…’_ Alma thought, as he opened his eyes.   
  
There, beside some of the cliffroses on the window, the two teases Tyki had given Alma fluttered about. The dark, onyx butterflies hovered as they eventually landed on some of the roses with their wings glistening with a deep amethyst shine.  
  
Alma watched them. Truthfully, Alma had thought that maybe Tyki would have taken the teases back – that maybe he would have been angry after Alma fled the greenhouse. But, no such thing had happened; the teases had remained as little guides to help Alma around, and Lala still continued to bring Alma food from the above world.  
  
And Tyki…Alma didn’t see Tyki anymore.  
  
Shifting his weight a bit, Alma felt his insides squirm. While he may have been avoiding Tyki, it wasn’t as though Tyki couldn’t have _found _him – the Noah always appeared to do so with such ease. But, maybe Tyki didn’t care to interact with Alma anymore. Maybe he had gotten annoyed.  
  
_‘Is he mad at me?’_ Alma wondered, the thought tugging at his core painfully. _‘It’s almost been a week…but maybe it’s better…’_  
  
Closing his eyes, Alma exhaled. Confused. Why was he so _confused_?  
  
There was a knock at the door, before it opened. Alma glanced up just as Lala walked in, who was carrying what appeared to be some new clothing.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at Lala curiously. “What’s that for?” he asked, as he noticed some of the details of the clothing.   
  
From what Alma could see, it was another chiton – it was another silvery one, though it appeared to have finer detailing and embroidery, as well as a dark gray lining. There was also a slightly different belt with this one: one that looked like it had smoky quartz and diamonds on it.  
  
It was…really fine, to say in the least.  
  
Lala placed it on the bed, laying it out so Alma could see it better. “It’s something the Earl wanted to send you to wear…for tonight,” Lala said, before she looked at Alma warily. “He…wants you to have dinner with him and the rest of the Noah family.”  
  
Alma stared, as his blood went cold. “He…he wants me to _what_?” Alma croaked, throat dry and muscles tense.  
  
Lala looked back at Alma, a somewhat worried expression on her face – though it was more due to Alma’s reaction, than anything else. “The Earl just thinks…because of how long you’ve been here, you should be interacting with the other Noah more. So, he thinks having dinner with them would be ideal.”  
  
Still stunned, Alma’s thoughts were reeling. He then shook his head as he could feel his pulse quicken uneasily. It had almost been a week, and Alma still hadn’t been able to forget his last interaction with the Earl, nor that of with the rest of the Noah.   
  
And the thought of sitting down at a table with the Earl and all of the other Noah…no. No, Alma couldn’t do it.   
  
“I…I _can’t_,” Alma tried to emphasize, as he looked at Lala pleadingly. “I can’t even eat the same food as they do – I’d just be sitting there!”  
  
A sympathetic look appeared in Lala’s eye, as she sighed. “The Earl said he’d arrange so your food would be prepared separately,” she explained softly. “He expects you to be there tonight.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he looked away uneasily. Even with Lala doing her best to be gentle, it was difficult for Alma to take the news well. In the last several days, he hadn’t seen any of the Noah – something that for the most part had left Alma uncertain. He hadn’t been sure if it was because of how poorly his last interaction with them had gone or if they simply didn’t care, but Alma would have been lying had he said that he wasn’t somewhat relieved to be left alone. Even if it meant he had to be isolated…  
  
A small sigh escaped Alma, as he could already feel the defeat wear on him. “The Earl really won’t accept no, will he?”  
  
Lala shook her head. “No…” she admitted, before she attempted a small smile. “It might not be too bad, though. I know it wasn’t good the last time you saw the other Noah, but…you’ve been alone so much these last few days. It could be nice to be around some other people.”  
  
As Lala said this, Alma looked at her curiously. It was honestly a bit strange to hear her talk about the Noah as though they were mere “people” – not when they were beyond that.  
  
Still, it didn’t change the fact that…Alma _had_ been rather lonely the last few days. While he hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Noah, Alma had still had to face the quiet nights and silent days with nothing more than the occasional visit from Lala. There were the teases too, which thankfully had offered Alma _something_ to talk to. Without them and without Lala, Alma might have lost his mind.  
  
Of course, Tyki might have talked to Alma if…  
  
Alma didn’t allow himself to finish the thought, as he shifted his position on the divan a bit. “What time do I have to be there…?”  
  
“Not for a few more hours. I’ll be sure to come by an hour before to help you get ready,” Lala said.  
  
Alma nodded. A few hours wasn’t exactly a lot, but it was still some time Alma would have to prepare himself. The Earl, the Noah – the thought of having to see them again unsettled Alma. And the thought of seeing Tyki…  
  
Those few moments in the greenhouse flashed in Alma’s memory, causing his heartbeat to quicken.  
  
Alma shook his head. No – no, he hadn’t been thinking clearly then. He didn’t know what had overcome him, but Alma hadn’t been _thinking_….  
  
He had to remember. He had to remember that Tyki was a Noah.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The cigarette was doing nothing for Tyki.  
  
It never really did. The habit was one that Tyki had taken up so long ago that it had become a subconscious tick. A clockwork motion, with the actions merely muscle memory: pull out a cigarette, light in, inhale, hold, exhale. Repeat.  
  
It never really did anything, and yet Tyki had been doing it more than normal these last few days.  
  
Tyki released a breath, a puff of smoke trickling from his lips. He had wandered to an open window in one of the stairwells of the castle towers, with his elbows resting on the windowsill as he leaned forward. The cool, evening air brushed against his skin, as several strands of dark hair fell in his face.  
  
Before he could stop himself, his eyes wandered to look down below – near the front entrance of the castle where some of the gardens were. Naturally, they were empty.  
  
Golden eyes lingering, Tyki’s thoughts began to stray.   
  
_He looked stunned. With eyes wide and awe-struck, Flower Boy reminded Tyki of some child who had just been let loose onto a playground. He didn’t look like the same scared, pitiful boy who had been holed up inside for so many days – no, Flower Boy looked _different_.   
  
“Can I look around?” Alma asked, the words tumbling out quickly as he turned back to Tyki.  
  
Tyki looked at Alma. There was a noticeable _spark_ in Alma’s eyes – one that caused his face to look a little brighter. It was actually sort of cute, really. Enough to make Tyki grin.  
  
“Knock yourself out.”_  
  
Tyki frowned, as the memory pushed itself into the forefront of his mind. Flower Boy. _Alma_. Tyki would have been a liar had he said that he hadn’t been thinking about him because he had been thinking about Alma _a lot_ – far more than he should have been.   
  
It didn’t help that Tyki hadn’t seen Alma in the last several days, either.  
  
This could have been different. Tyki could have found the boy easily. There weren’t many places that Alma tended off wander to; he usually stuck to his room, or the greenhouse. Although, Alma had started to venture out a little more. He still kept near the wing where he was staying and away from the other Noah, but the teases had helped with giving him some more independence from what Tyki knew.  
  
It would have been so easy to find Alma, but Tyki didn’t bother.  
  
Tyki took another hit of the cigarette as he held his breath, letting the nicotine simmer. It was a fruitless attempt as he exhaled without feeling the slightest nudge of comfort.   
  
_‘Useless shit…’_ Tyki thought, exhaling.  
  
He didn’t know why he bothered to fixate on this – he didn’t know why he bothered to fixate on Alma. The boy was so sheltered and at times whiny; he wasn’t exactly mature, and there wasn’t much that Tyki could say was even _special _about him.   
  
Tyki wasn’t even sure why he had kissed him.   
  
Tyki exhaled again. Removing the cigarette from his lips, he glanced at it, only to see that it was just about used up.  
  
Somewhat carelessly, Tyki tossed the remains of the cigarette out the window.   
  
There was a light _skip_ that could be heard down the stairwell, as a gentle, rhythmic click could be heard echoing against the walls. Light, playful – Tyki could recognize the footsteps without even bothering to turn back as he still remained leaning forward on the windowsill.  
  
Just ascending the stairs to where Tyki was, Road appeared. She skipped a step, before her attention immediately landed on Tyki. “I was wondering where you’ve been hiding,” Road said, taking a seat on one of the steps. “You don’t usually come up here.”  
  
Tyki hummed nonchalantly. “I’ve come up here plenty of times before.”  
  
Road’s eyes gleamed a bit, as she eyed Tyki. “No,” she said. “You don’t. Not unless you’re thinking about something.”  
  
“And I don’t think about things often?” Tyki questioned, words more of a half-joke.  
  
To this, Road smiled devilishly. “Not according to Wisely.”  
  
The humor in Tykis expression died as soon as the dig was made. Turning to face Road, Tyki’s expression remained flat. “Wow. Thanks.”  
  
Road giggled.   
  
Tyki turned his body more fully, as he leaned with his elbows against the windowsill. “So,” Tyki started, as he looked at Road questioningly. “What are _you_ doing here?”  
  
Road looked up, as she met Tyki’s gaze. “Looking for you,” she answered simply. “Like I said – I was wondering where you were hiding. You’ve been quite elusive the last few days.”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Have I?” he questioned. “Didn’t think I was doing anything differently.”  
  
“Really?” Road asked, as she flicked a strand of hair out of her face. “I was wondering if maybe you were with Alma – it seemed like you were making quite an effort to visit him at first.”  
  
Tyki blinked, as he shrugged. “Nah. Haven’t seen Flower Boy,” he answered. “He got a bit boring to be around.”  
  
Road raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What a shame,” she said, before sighing daintily. “Guess you won’t be as excited to hear the news then.”  
  
Tyki’s expressing turning perplexed, as a curious look brimmed in his eyes. “What news?”  
  
“Oh, you know,” Road said, as she crossed her legs. “The Chang has been with us for so long already – even longer than Lord Millennium anticipated. So, he thought it would be a good idea to start doing more to help…acclimate our houseguest.”  
  
Tyki frowned, still not quite catching on.   
  
Road stood up, before she turned back to Tyki. “Make sure to be on time for dinner – it’ll be _really_ special tonight.”  
  
“What, you’re not going to tell me?” Tyki asked, as Road began to skip down the staircase.  
  
“Mmmm, no,” Road said, before she glanced back at Tyki a final time. “I’d rather surprise you.”  
  
Tyki’s frown remained. However, he only watched as Road skipped down into the darkness.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was nervous.  
  
No, actually Alma wasn’t nervous – Alma was _terrified_.  
  
Perhaps, it was silly or overdramatic that Alma felt that way. He really didn’t know anymore; he didn’t know what was normal or acceptable, especially when everything he felt was constantly being challenged.   
  
But what Alma did know was that his heart was pounding so hard that it was all but echoing in his ears.  
  
Shakily, Alma took a small breath. He had just finished getting dressed, with the new chiton easily the nicest one he had worn yet. It was a light and airy gossamer fabric that felt like silk; it fit his body well to the point of Alma wondering if it had somehow been tailored for him. The belt was also incredibly nice, if not a bit fine – Alma wasn’t necessarily comfortable wearing such dressy things. His chitons had always been plainer what with how much time he spent outside.  
  
Had spent outside.  
  
Alma sighed, as he adjusted the circlet on his head. He only ever wore a thin, golden one, but Lala had brought a new one along with his outfit. Instead of the normal golden one, this one was silver, and also lined with quartz and a few small diamonds – not so much to be ostentatious, but enough to definitely match the belt quartz and diamond belt Alma had.  
  
Alma shifted uneasily. He really didn’t feel like himself in those clothing. _‘Just don’t think about it…’_ he thought, as he finally forced himself to leave his room.   
  
As he was leaving, the two teases fluttered over to where Alma was. Alma hesitated, somewhat confused as to what they were doing – however, as he watched, the planted themselves on the left side of his belt, forming so they almost resembled a dark, inky flower.  
  
Seeing this, Alma smiled at them gently. “You’re coming too then?” he asked, not opposed to this in the slightest. “I could use the extra support.”  
  
The teases didn’t respond, and Alma continued out of the room. As he walked out into the hall, Lala looked up, as she remained standing by the wall. She had been waiting outside as Alma finished clothing himself, and her expression brightened as soon as she saw him. “Wow, you look so good!” she said.  
  
A small blush colored Alma’s cheeks. “Really?” he asked, still feeling somewhat self-conscious.  
  
Lala nodded. “You really do. Silver really suits you well.”  
  
Hearing this, a small smile appeared on Alma’s lips.  
  
They began walking after that, with Lala leading Alma toward where the dining hall was. The walk was silent though, as Alma could once more feel his thoughts begin to churn.   
  
This was it. He was going to have to see all of the other Noah. He was going to have to see the Earl.  
  
A shiver threatened to spill throughout Alma’s body, as he tried to fight it. However, Alma could gradually feel his pulse begin to speed up, as his nerves tremored. A bit anxiously, he looked at Lala.   
  
“So…do you know what dinner will be like? With the Noah,” Alma asked.   
  
“I’ve never been present throughout a whole one – I don’t usually help to serve food during those,” Lala admitted, glancing back at Alma. “But I once helped with the first half. Generally, it’s a time where the Noah are very social with one another. They dress up for it, too – it’s why you were given a new outfit.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked forward. “Oh…”  
  
Socializing. Would Alma have to socialize with the Noah then? What sort of things did they even _talk_ about? The mere thought was beginning to make Alma’s anxiety resurface as he attempted to fathom just how he would make it through the evening.   
  
He didn’t know how he’d make it with the Noah and the Earl.  
  
A wave of nausea passed over Alma, as he suddenly recalled his last interaction with the Earl. _‘What if I say something wrong?’_ he worried, not confident enough to believe that he would be able to avoid stepping on any toes. He had angered the Earl so much the last time he had seen him…  
  
Lala’s pace slowed a bit, causing Alma’s thoughts to interrupt. Curiously, Alma turned to Lala, not sure why she was slowing. “Lala?”  
  
Lala didn’t get a chance to answer, as her focus seemed on something ahead. Confused, Alma turned, though he saw the reason Lala had become distracted.  
  
Fiidora was there, having just walking into the corridor from an adjourning hallway. He was a slight distance away, though close enough that Alma immediately noticed the shock of teal hair and the way in which Fiidora was dressed. Rather than the usual, loose clothing that Fiidora was usually seen in he was actually in what appeared to be a better tailored and more formal tunic – one that almost seemed out of place given how casual and languid his demeanor was.  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to stare for long, as Fiidora soon glanced back toward where he and Lala were, causing Alma to halt. Alma could feel himself freeze up a bit, as Fiidora grinned, before walking over.  
  
“Well hey there,” Fiidora greeted, as he seemed to focus on Alma specifically. “You’re all dressed up. Trying to go somewhere?”  
  
Alma felt his insides squirm as his face heated. “No – I mean-” he began to stammer, already floundering with his speech.  
  
Quickly, Lala spoke up. “Lord Millennium requested that Alma join the rest of the Noah for dinner,” she explained. “We were just heading there now.”  
  
Realization dawned on Fiidora, as he grinned. “I see,” he said, before he then addressed Lala. “There’ll be no need for you to escort him – we can just walk over together.”  
  
Alma tensed a little as soon as he heard this.  
  
Noticing Alma’s action, Fiidora’s smile broadened. “Something wrong? We’re going to the same place – makes sense, doesn’t it?”  
  
Alma wavered. There was no real way he could argue, less he wanted to offend Fiidora or cause any trouble. Considering what had happened the last time Alma had been with the Noah, Alma realized that it also…wouldn’t have been wise to do so.  
  
Sighing, Alma nodded in defeat.  
  
“Great,” Fiidora said, before he spoke to Lala. “Don’t worry – you can attend to him later.”  
  
Lala didn’t say anything, though she spared a glance in Alma’s directions. As she did, she offered him a small, reassuring smile.   
  
The expression was enough to offer Alma a small bit of comfort, as he gave her a tiny smile back. “I’ll see you later,” he said.  
  
Lala nodded, and Alma watched as he turned to head back down the hallway, leaving him with Fiidora.   
  
Fiidora spoke. “Better get going,” he said, as he started walking. “Definitely don’t want to keep the others waiting.”  
  
Alma turned, as he began to follow Fiidora. He didn’t say anything, opting to keep quiet as they walked; Alma was already so nervous about dinner, and walking there with Fiidora wasn’t exactly comforting. A small part of Alma couldn’t help but wish that he had been able to walk the whole way with Lala – if anything, she was a safe presence, and someone Alma could at least talk to.  
  
“Excited?” Fiidora asked, tone light. “Have to say I’m pretty surprised. A little birdie may have mentioned you joining us, but I thought it was a joke.”  
  
Alma kept his focus forward, as he avoided eye contact. “Lord Millennium thought it was a good idea…”  
  
“So I heard,” Fiidora said, before his yellow eyes burned tauntingly. “Just make sure not to break the table this time – there’ll be food on it, and I don’t think anyone will appreciate getting their dinner ruined.”  
  
Embarrassment flared throughout Alma, as he inwardly grimaced. “I…I really didn’t mean to do that-“  
  
Fiidora snickered a bit. “I don’t really care if you meant to or not,” he said. “But I think Wisely is still annoyed about it – so yeah. Don’t do it again.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything and kept his gaze averted.  
  
It wasn’t too long after that they finally arrived at what appeared to be the entrance to a larger room. The double doors were already open, with the sound of voices coming from within. Alma couldn’t even focus on trying to listen though, and he found himself hesitate just as Fiidora started inside.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma forced himself to follow.  
  
The dining room was nice – much nicer than Alma could have imagined. Like many of the other rooms, the walls were dark. However, while they still had a stone base, Alma could see that the walls were smoothed down to having a glossy finish, all while being inlaid with what appeared to be swirls of dark blue sapphire, smokey quartz, and obsidian. There were also torches lined along the walls, though what stood out to Alma was the two crystal chandeliers – both of which held an array of gleaming candles and loomed above the dining table.

  
It was then Alma noticed everyone.  
  
The Noah were there – all of them, from what Alma could tell, plus even a few who Alma realized he hadn’t yet met. They were all seated at the long, rectangular dining table, all dressed up for the occasion and engaging in small conversation. Food had already been set out as well, with the enticing and savory smells wafting through the air and tickling Alma’s nose.  
  
Almost instantly, Alma spotted the Earl.  
  
Alma’s whole body went rigid. The Earl was seated at the head of the table of course, dressed in another ornate, golden coat that was embroidered with obsidian and amethyst accents. Like the first time Alma had seen him, he appeared to be human, with the only indication of being a Noah his rich umber skin and startling yellow eyes.  
  
Those yellow eyes soon flickered over to Alma, and Alma felt his heart stop.  
  
_Yellow eyes. Aged, leathery flesh. He was so wretched and repulsive, and so close. He was so close, and Alma couldn’t stop _shaking_…  
  
_“I see you found the little moonflower, Fiidora,” the Earl spoke, causing Alma to abruptly return to the present moment. “Good – I was beginning to worry that he got lost on the way here.”  
  
“Yeah, no problem,” Fiidora brushed off, before he went to take a seat beside the twins.  
  
Alma paused, as he looked around the table uncertainly. Was there already a seating arrangement? Or was he supposed to sit anywhere? He wasn’t comfortable simply walking over to the table, and was now just standing still like some timid creature frozen in place.  
  
Road glanced at Alma. She was seated on the left side of the Earl, and her eyes appeared to glow as she smiled at Alma. “Your seat is next to Wisely,” she said, as she nodded her head to where Wisely was – who was just seated on Road’s right. “We even had your food brought out for you.”  
  
Alma still hesitated, as he looked back at Road warily. There was an expectant look in her eyes as she waited for Alma to react.  
  
Quietly, Alma walked over to the empty seat beside Wisely, and sat down. As he did, he glanced around the table. To Alma’s left was Wisely, then Road who was by the Earl at the head of the table. On the Earl’s other side was Sheril, as prim and proper as ever, and to Sheril’s left Alma could see…  
  
_‘Tyki…’_  
  
Alma stilled, as soon as his attention landed on Tyki. Unlike his usual, more casual attire, Tyki was dressed nicely – _very_ nicely. He was dressed in mostly black, with the attire looking as though it were similar to evening wear, and even Tyki’s hair was slightly styled differently. Rather than the normal, loose mess of curls falling in Tyki’s face, his dark hair was actually pulled back into a bun, showing his face more clearly.   
  
Unable to stop himself, Alma stared – just as Tyki’s eyes shifted to meet his.  
  
Alma’s face heated, as he quickly broke eye contact. However, the memory of their last interaction burned in his mind, causing his heart to race fervently.  
  
“You haven’t met everyone, have you?” Road asked, tone conversation as he eyed Alma.   
  
Alma glanced up, as he looked around. On the other side of Tyki was Fiidora, followed by the twins – but then there was a large, burly man with spiked black hair and a gruff appearance. His eyes were white too, with no pupils to be seen.   
  
“That’s Skinn,” Devit spoke up, when he noticed who Alma was looking at. “And beside him is Mercym.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered over to who Devit was referring to and saw the second man seated by Skinn. He took had slightly spiked hair, but it was cut shorter and his frame wasn’t quite as burly as Skinn’s; he also wore a pair of inky black glasses, keeping his eyes hidden.  
  
“Tryde is right next to you,” Road pointed out, referring to the individual seated on Alma’s right.  
  
Alma’s attention shifted again, as he looked over at Tryde. He was a young man of medium high, with straight black hair and bangs that fell into his face. He sat with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed as a sharp look remained on his face, causing him to seem rather distant and unapproachable.  
  
“Then there’s Mightra,” Road added. “He doesn’t say much.”  
  
_‘Mightra…’_ Alma thought, as he again looked passed where Tryde was. To his surprise, the person – Mightra – was in some kind of bodysuit. It was striped, and there was a strange, hooded piece-covering their head – though there was a slit opening at the mouth, for what Alma assumed was food.  
  
However, there was another person at the table – a woman who Alma didn’t recognize. She was near the end, with long dark hair pulled back into a low-ponytail, and was seated calmly beside Mightra with what looked to be a bowl of milk in front of her.  
  
To Alma’s surprise, Wisely spoke up beside him. “That’s Lulu Bell,” he pointed out plainly. “She was a cat the last time you saw her.”  
  
Surprise filled Alma, as he looked back at Wisely in confusion.  
  
“Well now that we’re all acquainted, let’s enjoy dinner,” the Earl declared. “I’m sure everyone’s famished by now.”  
  
None of the Noah needed to be told twice, as they all began to enjoy their dinners, with some of them breaking off into smaller conversations. The twins immediately started to argue about something, while Skinn was complaining about something in regard to the food to Mercym (“It’s not _sweet_,” he was saying). Across the table, Sheril began to discuss something with Lord Millennium.  
  
Soon, Fiidora said something to Tyki as well, as they began to converse. This immediately caught Alma’s attention, as his gaze wandered over to Tyki.  
  
But, Tyki didn’t spare Alma a second glance.  
  
There was a sharp pinch in Alma’s chest, as he tried to shift is focus. Glancing down, he looked at the plate of food that had been evidently prepared for him: it contained an array of delicacies, with roasted vegetables and what appeared to be a kind of lamb stew, which was mixed with yellow lentils and a tomato base. It smelled delicious, too, with the scent of cooked spices lingering in the air enticingly.  
  
But, Alma couldn’t eat – he couldn’t bring himself to just yet. _‘What if it’s actually from here?’_ he worried. The Millennium Earl had said it wasn’t, but could he have been lying? _  
  
_Sharply, Wisely’s eyes flashed over to Alma. He sniffed. “It’s from the above world – there’s no need for you to worry,” he stated, sounding rather annoyed.  
  
Alma looked at Wisely somewhat abruptly. He was a bit stunned, not sure how Wisely had known what Alma’s reservation was, until he remembered: Wisely could read minds.  
  
Uneasily, Alma returned his attention to his food. “Um…right. Thanks,” he said, somewhat awkwardly before he pushed himself to take a bite. _‘Don’t offend anyone…’_  
  
“We have some preparations underway for the Erebus,” Sheril was saying, as he addressed Lord Millennium. “I’m sure it’ll be just as splendid as it was last year, if not more.”  
  
“Wonderful,” the Earl stated. Then, somewhat unexpectedly, he turned to Alma. “Our little moonflower will probably be looking forward to it as well – it’s only a few weeks away!”  
  
Inwardly, Alma cringed. He didn’t know why the Millennium Earl continued to call him by such a name, and he immediately felt resistant to the Earl’s implication. A stubborn, childish urge of defiance immediately pressed itself above Alma, and he looked back at the Earl, wanting to say no. Wanting to say that he wouldn’t be there, because his family would save him-  
  
Alma took one look at the Earl, and as the memories of his previous encounter once more trickled into his mind Alma felt his confidence crumble to ash.  
  
A small tremor rippled throughout Alma, and he nodded his head quietly. “Yes, it…sounds nice,” Alma answered, the defeat hanging heavily on his shoulders as his eyes turned downcast.  
  
From across the table, Tyki’s eyes flickered over to Alma, expression neutral as he said nothing.  
  
“I was telling Alma a bit about the Erebus the other day,” Road said, as he rested her elbows on the table. “It was only for a bit though. We didn’t get to talk much before he ran off…”  
  
Alma sucked in a small breath, as he pushed around his food. Quiet. Maybe if he kept quiet, the subject would be dropped. Alma had already had that whole incident rubbed in his face more than enough times, and the last thing he needed was for it to be brought up _again_.  
  
The twins snickered, before Devit spoke. “That shit was _hilarious_ – I’ve never seen Wisely looked so scared!” he crowed.  
  
Wisely glared at the twins, evidently not thrilled with being pointed out either. “It’s easy to be caught off guard when someone is acting _uncontrollably_,” he pointed out sharply.  
  
The comment caused Alma to wince, as he gripped his fork tightly. _‘It was an accident,’_ he wanted to say, though the words remained trapped in his throat. _‘I didn’t mean to…’_  
  
Looking across the table again, Tyki’s attention once more landed on Alma. He only did this for a second before looking at Wisely. “Come on, Wisely,” Tyki started, words smooth. “Leave Flower Boy alone – we’re all trying to have a nice dinner here.”  
  
Alma looked up, somewhat taken aback by Tyki’s sudden input. He stared, soaking up the sound of Tyki’s voice as the nickname _Flower Boy_ rang in Alma’s ears.   
  
Wisely said something back, though by this point Alma wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he found himself fixating on Tyki, watching as the other Noah engaged with all else at the table. The smooth voice, his mannerisms – Alma was completely entrapped, as a strange tug pulled from inside his chest.  
  
Tyki still never once made eye contact Alma.  
  
Noticing this, Alma felt something inside him begin to sink. _‘He’s not even acknowledging me now…’_ Alma thought, the realizing stinging painfully.  
  
Looking down, Alma again pushed around his food. He tried to make himself eat, with the conversation having deviated away from himself as dinner progressed. However, Alma couldn’t enjoy the mean, as fine as it was – he couldn’t stop thinking about Tyki.  
  
_‘Stop,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘Just stop – he’s a Noah, and you pushed him away. It doesn’t matter…’_  
  
Alma told himself this silently, but he found it a struggle to believe.  
  
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked up. Somewhat surprised, he realized that Wisely had spoken – though he had done such so quietly, that only Alma had appeared to have noticed.  
  
“What?” Alma asked, as he blinked again.  
  
Wisely’s eyes flickered over to Alma, before he rolled them in irritation. He took his glass, as he spoke again – once more quietly, so that only Alma could hear. “Just a Noah…” he said, a tinge of disgust in his voice.   
  
Hearing this, Alma paled a bit in realization that Wisely must have read his thoughts. “You heard?” he asked, feeling somewhat violated. Did Wisely _always_ hear people’s thoughts?  
  
“Of course I did – your thoughts are so rampant it’s difficult not to,” Wisely said, before he locked gazes with Alma. “But that’s to be expected because I’m a Noah, isn’t it? And according to you, we’re all _monsters_.”  
  
Alma’s throat ran dry. “That’s not-“ he began to say, but couldn’t finish.   
  
Wisely waved a hand dismissively. “Please, save your excuses. I’ve seen how you view us. Quite ironic given the monstrosity _you_ hail from.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma tensed. He frowned, as he looked at Wisely in confusion. “What do you mean…?”  
  
“Honestly,” Wisely said, before he turned his face to Alma more directly. “Your family, the Order – you act as though they can do no wrong, when they unjustly took over and imprisoned my family here. Yet we are the villains, because _that_ is what you’ve been told.”  
  
As Wisely spoke this, his words were low – again, as though not to draw attention to the conversation that he and Alma were having. “You look at us and see monsters. But what I can confirm is that there’s not one monster in this room…except for maybe you. Not a single person here even really wants you around – you’re merely here as collateral.”  
  
Alma stared. He was stunned, almost as though Wisely had struck him with his bare hand. Opening his mouth, Alma wanted to respond – to say something, to say _anything_. But nothing came out, as the words seemed to burn in Alma’s core, simmering like a scalding fire that was beginning to sear with pain.  
  
Swiftly, Alma’s eyes moved across the table to where Tyki was. _‘But…’_  
  
Already knowing where Alma’s mind was going, Wisely exhaled. “Don’t think he’s any different – he only took pity on you, and that was more a result of boredom,” Wisely clipped quietly, before a cruel glint appeared in his eyes. “He doesn’t even understand why he _kissed_ you.”  
  
Immediately, Alma could feel the words knock the wind out of him, as another invisible blow was delivered. He could only stare back at Wisely, the words sharp and hurtful as they burrowed themselves into Alma’s mind. _‘Tyki doesn’t…’_  
  
Alma quickly looked away, as his eyes remained downcast. In his chest, he could feel a small tremor, as his breaths were suddenly beginning to turn shallow and strained.  
  
Alma forced himself to remain silent throughout the rest of dinner, with his gaze never once meeting Tyki’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the first update of 2020! (How is it already 2020 though? dfkdjlgkj) Hopefully everyone’s having a good New Year! :3
> 
> I know there wasn’t as much Tyki and Alma interaction in this chapter, but I had some things I wanted to delve into before having them interact after last chapter’s ending (which - next chapter I /promise/ there is some very, very heavy Tyki and Alma interaction ;3). 
> 
> It felt like with it being three weeks like a good moment to show what was happening with Alma’s family, and how they’re all handling the situation as is. I also realize that for Twi there hadn’t really been a breaking point for her yet, and it felt like it was time for that to happen. I think with the first few weeks, it’s easy to fall into shock and denial, but after it sinks it? You just break. 
> 
> As for Bak, he has his own way of dealing with this all - but that’s also influenced by the fact that Bak feels like he’s missing some /very/ important piece of information. He knows something isn’t right somewhere, but doesn’t know what. Renee, while she isn’t related to the Changs, is definitely key in pushing this along when she comments on feeling a similar way to Bak - which, frankly is unsettling for him. He doesn’t want to think his family is withholding anything, but at the same time, he’s also growing desperate for a way to recover Alma.
> 
> Moving onto Alma - I wanted a chance for him to finally meet the rest of the Noahs. While they’re not all necessarily prominent characters, it just felt like something that needed to happen, and I honestly wasn’t going to pass up on writing a dinner scene (I’d been itching to write one for this whole fic, and this was finally the chapter where it fit in). It also seemed like a good way to follow up with the last chapter; after Alma’s previous interactions with the Noah and the Earl, he’s finally being forced to better acclimate. He’s not necessarily doing well, but he’s no longer just able to hide and is going to have to start holding his own more. 
> 
> Of course, Wisely has to make a few digs during dinner, so it’s not easy. >.< Especially with hitting that sore spot of the kiss. Which speaking of, I didn’t really want to delve into the fallout so that it happened immediately; to me, waiting several days felt appropriate to let things simmer. (I also just...didn’t see Tyki being the kind of person to seek Alma out after what happened? Tyki can take a hint, and frankly, is just as confused about everything despite not wanting to admit such aloud). But like I said, next chapter something is bound to happen. ;3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please feel free to leave any comments or feedback as it’s always appreciated! <3


	19. What Night Brings

Alma left the dining hall as soon as he could.  
  
Alma hadn’t had been able to stay any longer. Already dinner had dragged on endlessly as the Noah were too enveloped in their own conversations to care. They hadn’t even acknowledged Alma much after the first part of dinner, with any interest in Alma quickly fading. Eventually, Alma had been merely left there to disappear into the background. Only the occasional comment would be made, just enough to keep Alma’s presence trapped in place.  
  
_“Are you enjoying your food, Moonflower?”  
  
“We’re _so_ happy you’re finally joining us.”  
  
_The questions. The remarks. There had hardly been a trace of sincerity in them, with each question a mere mockery of politeness. There was not an ounce or warmth, or kindness – only a masquerade of ice-cold cordiality, like a satin-enclosed blade merely skimming the edge of the surface.  
  
Alma shouldn’t have expected anything else, though. He knew well enough that the Noah hated him – Wisely had made that as clear as day.  
  
_“Not a single person here even really wants you around – you’re merely here as collateral.”_  
  
Collateral. Alma had only ever been collateral to the Noah. He had only been collateral to Tyki.  
  
The thought stinging, Alma pushed along. He had hurried off the moment the Earl had dismissed him, quickly trying to get as far away from the other Noah as possible. He wandered the dark hallways as they twisted and turned like some strange labyrinth; even the torches seemed somewhat dim, causing the shadows to spread endlessly, and leaving Alma to feel lost and disoriented.  
  
Slowing to a stop, Alma glanced around. He had rushed to get away from the dining hall so quickly that he realized he must have taken a wrong turn, or maybe several. Maybe more.  
  
A bit of a worried look crossed Alma’s features as he tried to determine where to go. The current hallway continued on, before breaking off into another hallway – should Alma turn there? He wasn’t sure and the area didn’t appear familiar.  
  
As Alma wavered, the teases on his belt shifted, moving from their flower-like formation as they fluttered into the air. They paused, hovering before Alma expectantly.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at them. He had almost forgotten that they had been with him, but a small relief soon filled him – surely they would know where to go.   
  
“Do you know how to get back to my room from here?” Alma asked. “I think I went the wrong way, and I got sort of turned around…”  
  
The teases fluttered their wings, before they began to fly off down the hallway.  
  
Rubbing his arm, Alma began to follow them. He tried to keep an eye on his surroundings, watching for any hint of familiarity as he trekked along through the dark corridors. However, Alma found no such thing and instead only continued to keep his focus on the teases as they fluttered up ahead.  
  
Even that didn’t keep Alma’s thoughts from wandering.  
  
Gripping at his wrist, Alma could feel his thoughts returning to earlier. To the things Wisely had said. To the things that Wisely had said about…  
  
_“Don’t think he’s any different – he only took pity on you, and that was more a result of boredom,” Wisely clipped quietly, before a cruel glint appeared in his eyes. “He doesn’t even understand why he _kissed _you.”_  
  
The mere memory caused Alma to flinch, the words still fresh and scalding. A sharp, painful _twist_ seemed to jerk within his chest – almost as though an invisible fist had forced itself into Alma’s core, only to yank at his heart from the inside out. His breathing felt strained, and he_ just_…  
  
Alma didn’t understand how he felt anymore. He just didn’t understand.  
  
He was upset, though – Alma knew that much. It had been violating to have had his thoughts read and for Wisely to have sifted through Alma’s mind as though he were a mere open book. After all, Alma’s thoughts had been _private_. Those memories had been his. Wisely hadn’t had a right to just _look_ at them. And he certainly hadn’t a right to see-  
  
Alma cut his own thoughts off, before he could think too long about it. Quickly, he tried to repress it.  
  
The effort was in vain. Alma couldn’t repress it. He couldn’t repress it, and he could only think about how Tyki had kissed him.  
  
A shaky tremor rippled throughout Alma’s chest, and he took a shallow breath. Why? _Why_ had Tyki kissed him? Had he really only been bored like Wisely had said? Had he regretted it, realizing it had been a mistake, and was now repulsed that he had even done such a thing? Was he now repulsed that he had kissed _Alma_…?  
  
Alma tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. He tried to rationalize with himself. After all, Alma had been the one to push Tyki away – he had realized that Tyki was a Noah, and that it was a mistake. That it was a mistake and that Tyki could be dangerous – possibly even like the Earl. That it was a mistake, even if…  
  
_‘Even if it was my first kiss…’ _Alma thought, the realization weighing on him heavily.   
  
It was silly. Alma of course had never kissed anyone, and truthfully, he hadn’t thought much about it. A few times, yes, with the whimsical notion that it would be with someone special, and maybe even a little romantic. That had been but a simple dream though, and one that had felt like a lifetime away. It had been easy to feel like such when Alma had never even been allowed to leave home.  
  
Yet, his kiss with Tyki had been…  
  
_‘Stop,’ _Alma scolded himself, as he tried to fight his own desires. _‘Stop it. It wasn’t…’_  
  
By now, Alma had stopped walking. Eyes downcast, his attention remained on the floor, as his eyes were stubbornly beginning to burn. _‘Just stop…’_  
  
There was a gentle fluttering noise, and Alma looked up. When he did, he could see that the teases had returned to him, as the lingered in front of him quietly.  
  
A somewhat guilty look crossing Alma’s features, he glanced back at the teases apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t mean to slow us down.”  
  
The teases only fluttered their wings, before they started to move on again.  
  
Quietly, Alma continued to follow them. At times like this, he found himself wising that the teases could speak back, or at least offer some better form of communication. They were similar to golems, but otherwise, Alma’s conversations with them tended to be one-sided. This didn’t mean that Alma didn’t appreciate them – he did, and they were helpful to have around.   
  
It just wasn’t the same.  
  
Another wave of hollowness befell Alma, as he crossed his arms, hugging himself gently. It was cold, he noticed – colder than what the castle normally felt like. There was a notable draft that lingered in the air, and as Alma exhaled, he realized that he could see his own breath as it formed a warm puff of smoke.  
  
Alma shivered. _‘Why is it so cold here?’_ he wondered, as he glanced around. He couldn’t see any windows, or even hear the echoes of a possible breeze. It was just a cold, endless darkness: an inky winter that stretched down the corridors, and encompassed every bit of Alma’s flesh.  
  
He wanted to get back to his room.  
  
Picking up his pace, Alma walked a bit more quickly. In response, the teases also quickened their flight, evidently having noticed Alma’s discomfort. If anything, this gave Alma some relief – hopefully he could get back to his room soon-  
  
_Whisper._  
  
Alma stopped, as an indistinguishable chill tickled at the back of his neck. Had he heard something?  
  
_Whisper._  
  
Another noise – this time, one that grazed against Alma’s ear.  
  
Alma paused, as he looked around. He had just stopped in a different hallway – one that had engravings lining the wall. They were carved deeply into smooth glyphs and symbols, with intricate detailing that was easy to miss. In fact, Alma hadn’t even realized the glyphs were there; they had blended so easily into the shadows that it wasn’t until Alma stopped to look that he even really noticed them.  
  
A small frown painted Alma’s face, as he walked over to them. They looked familiar-  
  
_Somewhat tentatively, Alma brought his hand up. There was a slight shakiness to his hand, but he ignored it, just as he allowed his fingertips to brush against one of the symbols.  
  
Abruptly, Alma’s vision went black-_  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as he suddenly recalled the symbols. They had been the same ones that he had seen when Tyki had first gone to take Alma outside and Alma had briefly gotten separated from Tyki.  
  
_‘Fiidora called them old writings,’_ Alma recalled, as his eyes wandered over the symbols. Old writings of _what_though? Fiidora and Tyki hadn’t gone into any more detail other than that, and Alma had no idea how to read them.  
  
Somewhat hesitantly, Alma lifted a hand. He didn’t touch the glyphs though and he eyed them carefully. The last time he had touched them, something had…happened. Alma wasn’t sure what, but _something_…  
  
Inside, Alma felt a pull as a ghostly whisper echoed in his ear.  
  
Swallowing, Alma brought his fingers toward the glyph-  
  
A tease suddenly flew in front of Alma, startling him. He staggered back a bit, eyes confused as the tease continued to block him from the wall as the second tease joined.  
  
“What?” Alma asked, as he tried to look passed the teases. “Why are you blocking me? Do you know what those symbols are?”  
  
The teases gave no indication of any answer as they fluttered back and forth. They moved swiftly, further preventing Alma from getting too close to the symbols.  
  
Alma frowned. He wasn’t sure why the teases were acting in such a manner, but if anything, it only caused his curiosity to burn more. Just what were the symbols, and why were the teases trying to keep Alma away from them? Would something happen if he touched them again? The more rational part of Alma’s head thought that it may have been wiser to listen to the teases – to walk away and to continue to go back to his room quietly.  
  
However, there was a whisper. A small, indistinguishable whisper that nipped at Alma’s ears, and pulled at something deep in his chest…  
  
Frustrated, Alma tried to swat the teases away with his hand. “_Stop_,” he urged, as he tried to move around them. “I want to know what they are-“  
  
Alma cut off, as one of the teases once more attempted to block him. Quickly, Alma tried to dodge the tease, leaning to the side as he tried to move forward. The way in which Alma moved was too swift though, and before Alma could even blink he felt his left foot slip, his ankle twisting sharply as he lost his balance.  
  
Alma shouted as he fell to the ground, his hand brushing against the symbols-  
  
_-Just as he collapsed. Just as he collapsed onto the ground.  
  
Alma grimaced. He had fallen hard onto the cold, stone floor – or at least, what had _felt_ to be stone. The impact had been rough, with the ground feeling like sharpened sandpaper against Alma’s skin. The texture prickled and burned, with his elbows and palms searing, and his head felt heavy – _dizzy_.  
  
Gritting his teeth, Alma tried to push himself up. As he did, he noticed a glint on the ground-  
  
Water. He was in a shallow pool of water.  
  
Alma stared. He was honestly confused – hadn’t he just fallen onto the stone ground? Alma could have sworn he had, yet when he looked, he was only staring at a glossy, inky surface. One that rippled which each movement Alma made.  
  
Carefully, Alma tried to stand-  
  
A sharp pain shot throughout his ankle, causing Alma’s knees to buckle. He took a small, shallow breath, as he waited for the pain to subside.   
  
“…I don’t know what to do…”  
  
Alma looked up. In the distance, he could hear someone speaking. A faint voice that struck a sharp chord of familiarity within Alma.   
  
_‘Who…’_ Alma wondered, as he tried to look for the source of the speaker.  
  
“…I don’t _know_…”  
  
“…We’ll figure something out….”  
  
_‘I know those voices,’_ Alma realized. They were so terribly familiar, too, but why couldn’t Alma remember….?  
  
In one of the voices, Alma heard something crack.   
  
“….He’s not going to be okay. It’s infected him too much-“  
  
“…He’ll make it. We’ll find a way to fix this, Twi…”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as the realization slammed into him. Without thinking, Alma pushed himself off the ground as he tried to run forward. “Mother, Father-!”  
  
Another sharp pain seared throughout Alma’s left ankle, and once more, he collapsed. However, Alma didn’t allow to give himself to give in, as he tried once more to call out to his parents. “Mother! Father! I’m right here!” Alma called, as he tried to determine where they were.  
  
“…We can’t do this now…”  
  
“….We don’t have a _choice_…”  
  
Alma chewed the inside of his cheek. He could hear his parents speaking somewhere, but why couldn’t they hear him?  
  
“Please, I’m _right here_!” Alma shouted, as he tried yet again to stand – only to fall mere seconds after, his left ankle no longer able to support his own weight.  
  
“…The Order will never allow it…”  
  
“…The Order will never _know_…”  
  
Alma’s fists balled. Why weren’t they responding? Why weren’t they acting as if they couldn’t _hear him…_?  
  
“I’m right here!” Alma tried to shout again, as his voice carried out into the endless darkness. However, his movements felt strained, as though he were being held back. “I’m _right here_-!”  
  
_Alma felt his shoulders jerk, as though someone had just shaken him. In a stubborn, impulsive way, Alma tried to force himself forward as he once more tried to call out to his parents. “I said I’m _here_-!”  
  
“_Easy_, Flower Boy – I heard you’re the first time.”  
  
Alma blinked, his vision blurring back into focus. He hadn’t realized when the shift had occurred, but suddenly Alma was no longer in that strange realm of darkness. Now, he was back in the corridor, on the stone-cold ground and with no one-  
  
No. No, he was with someone – Alma was with someone, who was holding him by the shoulders. Tyki.  
  
Confused, Alma stared. Tyki was in front of Alma, having knelt down so that he was close to eye level. However, when Alma looked, he noticed that Tyki didn’t have his usual, nonchalant expression; there was a thin frown on his face, with a peculiar look in his eyes. Something pensive, and…  
  
Alma suddenly remembered his parents.  
  
“Where are they?” Alma questioned. “Where are my parents? I just heard them, they were here!”  
  
Tyki looked a bit caught off guard by the frantic accusation. However, his frown remained firmly in place, his brow furrowing even more.   
  
“Your family is back in the above realm,” Tyki pointed out calmly. “They’re not here-“  
  
“But I just _heard them_!” Alma argued, as he refused to accept Tyki’s words. “I know I did, so let me see them!”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He only stared at Alma, expression cool and oddly distant – contemplative. It wasn’t like how he normally was.  
  
Abruptly, Tyki took Alma’s hand as he yanked it forward.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, alarmed by the sudden action. “What are you doing?” he asked.  
  
Tyki remained silent, as he eyed Alma’s hand. He moved it, observing it carefully as he inspected Alma’s fingertips.   
  
As he did, Tyki could see several traces of ultraviolet light dissolving into Alma’s skin.  
  
Eyes narrowing, Tyki lowered Alma’s hand as he met Alma’s gaze directly. “You didn’t actually hear them,” Tyki reiterated, voice even and steady. “So stop freaking out. They’re not here, and there’s no way for you to speak to them.”  
  
Alma promptly went quiet, his mouth clamping shut as he pulled his hand back. He looked away from Tyki, gaze averted as he attempted to grapple with Tyki’s words. Tyki had just spoken so plainly, and so calmly, yet Alma could have _sworn_ that he heard his parents…  
  
But Alma hadn’t. He hadn’t heard them.  
  
Somehow, a part of Alma seemed to already have realized this. It was a heavy, begrudging notion that pressed upon Alma’s chest like a block of cement; it stifled and suffocated Alma, causing his breathing to turn shallow as a terribly cold, _empty_ feeling overcame his whole being.  
  
Not there. His parents had never been there, and Alma had no way of speaking to them. He probably never would ever again.  
  
As Alma remained silent, Tyki’s attention moved to Alma’s left ankle. “Looks like you hurt yourself.”   
  
Alma looked back up, initially confused as to what Tyki was talking about. He followed Tyki’s line of sight and glanced over at his left ankle. Sure enough, it was already beginning to look a bit swollen, with the reddish beginnings of a bruise beginning to form just beneath the golden anklet Alma wore.  
  
Still avoiding eye contact, Alma spoke. “It’s fine,” he said quickly. “It’s…not that bad.”  
  
Tyki’s eyes were dubious. “Oh?” he asked. “Can you stand up then?”  
  
Alma wavered. “Um…yeah,” he said, words weak. “Yeah, I can…”  
  
Tyki remained doubtful, as he eyed Alma skeptically. He then stood back up, before speaking to Alma. “Show me.”  
  
Somewhat taken aback, Alma looked up. “What?”  
  
“Show me,” Tyki repeated, before a small smirk stretched across his lips. “You said you could stand – so stand.”  
  
Alma hesitated. Tyki was waiting, looking down at Alma expectantly. Realizing that he couldn’t just sit there without proving Tyki right, Alma swallowed. He tried to bring himself to stand, limbs shaking and muscles weak.  
  
Alma had managed to get partially up before he applied pressure to his left ankle, causing a shooting pain to surge throughout his calf. Immediately, his leg buckled in, with Alma grimacing as he fell.  
  
Tyki caught Alma, his grasp secure thus giving Alma enough support so that he didn’t have to place any additional weight on his ankle.  
  
As Tyki held Alma up, he raised an eyebrow. “Not that bad, huh?”  
  
Alma’s face heated, as he looked off to the side. However, a rush of alarm flared throughout him as he suddenly could feel Tyki scoop him up, placing one arm under Alma’s knees while he kept another behind Alma’s back.  
  
Eyes wide, Alma could feel himself struggle to stammer out a response. “W-What are you-?”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Tyki said. “I’m just getting you back to your room.”  
  
The heat that had already been on Alma’s face seemed to burn even more, as his heart jumped in his chest. “You don’t have to-“ Alma began to say, though he found it difficult to even focus. Tyki was just so…_close_.  
  
“Yeah? And how exactly would you make it back?” Tyki questioned.  
  
To this, Alma said nothing.  
  
Tyki’s smirk returned, as a somewhat triumphant look appeared in his eyes. “Thought so.”  
  
Alma remained quiet as Tyki continued to carry him down the hallway. The air was terribly quiet, save for the sound of Tyki’s footsteps and the gentle fluttering of the teases. A part of Alma wondered if they were how Tyki might have found him, but Alma didn’t have it in him to ask. He didn’t have it in him to _speak_. He was just too aware of Tyki holding him in that moment. He was too aware of how his own body was pressed against Tyki’s chest, with a warmth spilling into Alma’s skin and seeping into his chest, as it caused his own heart to flutter unexpectedly.   
  
In his mind, Alma couldn’t help but think about the kiss.  
  
Somehow, this only caused Alma’s heart to beat faster, as a shiver threatened to ripple throughout his body.   
  
_‘Don’t,’_ Alma tried to warn himself. _‘Don’t think about that. You pushed him away, and he doesn’t even know why he did it…’_  
  
For some reason, the thought only caused Alma’s insides to ache.  
  
The journey back to Alma’s room took an excruciatingly long time – though, Alma wondered if perhaps it only felt long given the circumstances. However, Tyki soon came to the door, pushing it open before he carried Alma over to the bed.   
  
Gently, Tyki placed Alma down onto the mattress. He glanced at Alma’s ankle one last time, before he then walked to where the bathing room was, disappearing as he phased through the door.  
  
Alma blinked, as he propped himself up on his elbows, careful not to put any pressure on his ankle. He watched the bathroom door with confusion in his eyes, before Tyki soon phased back through it, with what appeared to be some cloth strips in his hand and a small bottle.  
  
Alma watched, as Tyki sat on the edge of the bed, placing the items down. He then took Alma’s left foot as he slipped Alma’s shoe off.  
  
Alma shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “Um-“  
  
Tyki’s eyes flickered over to Alma, his golden irises burning into Alma’s blue ones. “You want the swelling to go down?” he asked.  
  
Alma paused, before nodding his head slowly.  
  
Tyki’s eyes remained on Alma for a moment before he resumed his task. After taking off Alma’s shoe, he took the bottle. As he opened it, Alma caught the scent of something fragrant – some kind of ointment, he realized.  
  
Taking the oil, Tyki rubbed it over Alma’s foot, concentrating the majority of the substance around the ankle. As Tyki did this, he very gingerly massaged into some of the swollen skin tissue – something that Alma was actually a bit grateful for. His ankle was tender, but the touch was soothing. Even relaxing.  
  
Slowly, Alma could feel the tension in his shoulders ease. However, his chest still felt a bit tight, as a strange, knotted feeling began to fester in his stomach.  
  
By now, Tyki had moved on to the cloth strips, as he began to wrap Alma’s foot, beginning after the toes and working his way up to the ankle. He did so carefully, adding just enough pressure to compress the swelling, but not so much that it felt painful to Alma.   
  
As Tyki finished, he paused. Just where he was wrapping the last of the cloth, he had come to the golden anklet that Alma had been forced to wear.  
  
Without saying anything, Tyki finished wrapping Alma’s ankle, leaving the golden band exposed.  
  
“You’re as fragile as a mortal,” Tyki noted, as he looked back at Alma. “Make sure not to walk around too much for the next day or two – you clearly have a knack for hurting yourself.”  
  
Alma blushed. He shifted a bit on the mattress. “Where’d you learn how to do that?” Alma found himself asking.   
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, before shrugging. “Mortals do stupid things and get hurt all the time. I watched it happen enough.”  
  
Alma looked at Tyki curiously, before he recalled what Lala had said. _‘She said that Tyki had spent time among the humans…’_ Alma remembered, as he once more tried to envision such a thing.   
  
Tyki stood up, as he placed the left-over bandages and ointment back onto the nightstand. “You should probably reapply it in the morning. It’ll help your ankle heal more quickly.”  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to speak, before he saw Tyki begin to walk off toward the door.   
  
A sudden, overwhelming sensation abruptly befell Alma. Heart twisting in his chest, he could feel his throat dry up, as he tried to speak.  
  
“Wait-“ Alma barely managed, before his voice broke off.  
  
Tyki stopped just before he reached the door. Turning, he looked back at Alma.  
  
Alma felt the words lock inside his chest, as his heart pounded fervently. _‘I can’t…’_  
  
Tyki’s gaze was questioning, before a somewhat playful smirk tugged at his lips. “You know, we can’t all read minds like Wisely,” Tyki noted. “If you want to say something to me, you’ll have to say it aloud.”  
  
Alma immediately turned rigid, as the name _Wisely_ rang in his ears.  
  
_“He only took pity on you, and that was more a result of boredom. He doesn’t even understand why he _kissed _you.”_  
  
As soon as the words flooded back into the forefront of Alma’s mind, his expression crumbled.  
  
Naïve. Alma was being naïve again. For a small, fleeting moment, Alma had forgotten what Wisely had said. He had forgotten about the Earl, about dinner – he had forgotten that he was a prisoner and trapped among a family of individuals who hated him.  
  
For a small moment, he had forgotten that Tyki might have hated him as well. After all, what else could Tyki have felt? Maybe boredom as Wisely had said, but perhaps Tyki felt the same way as the rest of the Noah. Maybe he didn’t actually want Alma there and was merely playing along with whatever charade of hospitality that this whole ordeal had become.  
  
Maybe, that was all it was.  
  
Alma couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take the vagueness and uncertainty. He couldn’t take _not knowing_.  
  
“Are…” Alma tried to ask, the words feel like dry sand as they spilled through his lips. “Are you here because you’re just bored…?”  
  
Tyki paused, looking somewhat caught off guard by the question. However, Alma continued, words a mere tremor amongst silence.  
  
“Is that why…is that why you kissed me?” Alma asked, before he finally managed to look Tyki in the eye. “Is that why you’re even bothering at all…?”  
  
Again, Tyki looked dumbfounded. He appeared at a loss for how to respond, not having expected such an inquiry of all things. Especially considering how…_vulnerable_ Alma appeared.  
  
Fragile. He truly was fragile.   
  
Swiftly, Tyki collected himself, neutralizing the surprise on his face with a mask of ease. A small chuckle escaped him as he walked back over to where Alma was on the bed.  
  
“Is that what this is about?” Tyki asked, words more teasing than cruel. Playful, even. “I’m surprised – would it be that upsetting to you if I was only doing it out of boredom?”  
  
Alma’s eye flashed, as something pained flickered across his expression. He immediately broke eye contact as he struggled to grapple with Tyki’s words.  
  
Except, Alma didn’t have to struggle for long. He already knew the answer well enough.  
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tyki gently reached out to grasp at Alma’s chin. The action caused Alma to look back at Tyki bewilderedly.   
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze for a moment, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. “You really are kind of confusing,” Tyki murmured as he moved his fingers so that they brushed some of Alma’s hair behind his ear. “I have no idea what you even want right now…”  
  
Alma kept still, as his eyes remained trapped by Tyki’s molten gold irises. He just couldn’t look away this time. They were so alluring and hypnotic, almost as though they were casting some kind of mesmerizing spell over Alma. Again, he was keenly aware of how quickly his heart was beating, and a wildly nervous fluttering that festered inside of his stomach.  
  
Somewhat shakily, Alma lifted a hand. He brought it forward, almost as though he were to place it on Tyki’s chest. However, Alma stopped just an inch before, too nervous to do such a thing-  
  
Tyki caught Alma’s hand with his own, his fingers gingerly clasping over Alma’s.  
  
Their gazes met one final time, faces close.  
  
The next thing Alma knew, Tyki was kissing him.  
  
It happened suddenly – so much, that Alma wasn’t sure if Tyki had been the one to lean in first, or if perhaps Alma had done so instead. Alma didn’t have time to think about that though. No, all Alma could think about was that Tyki’s lips were on his, with the kiss burning deep into Alma’s core as it set something aflame inside.  
  
Eyes closing, Alma kissed back. He was not even sure what was pushing him to do so anymore, but Alma couldn’t resist. A flood of _want_ was now overwhelming Alma, as he clasped one hand into Tyki’s and another onto the front of Tyki’s shirt.  
  
Tyki shifted. He was still kissing Alma heatedly, his tongue slipping into Alma’s mouth with ease. As he did this, he moved his hand so that he was caressing the back of Alma’s head, fingers twisting into Alma’s hair tightly.  
  
A soft moan spilled from Alma as he felt Tyki tug on his hair. The sensation felt strangely _good_ – it sent a flare of heat throughout Alma, down into his core and throughout his legs.   
  
More. He wanted to feel more.  
  
Crawling more onto the bed, Tyki guided Alma so that his head was soon resting back on the pillow. Tyki didn’t stop there though; he moved his mouth, planting several kisses along Alma’s jaw before he traced down to Alma’s neck. His tongue grazed across Alma’s sweet flesh, as he kissed along the collar bone.  
  
Alma exhaled, a sigh escaping him as he arched his neck back. The kisses were electrifying, as his blood continued to burn in his vessels. Alma could already feel himself growing hot, with the light, airy fabric of his chiton beginning to feel more stifling by the second.  
  
Without thinking, one of Alma’s hands grabbed at the fabric over his hip, his hand balling into a fist.  
  
Tyki’s hand traced down to Alma’s waist. He clasped at the gem-encrusted belt that Alma wore, his fingers close to undoing it.   
  
Tyki did no such thing. He pulled his lips from Alma’s neck, pushing himself up as he stared back at Alma. When Tyki looked, he could see that Alma was already flushed in the face, with a hazed look in his eyes. Alma almost looked dazed, really, with his lips slightly parted and pink.  
  
Tyki just wanted to take Alma right then and there.  
  
Still somewhat upright, Tyki brought his hand to the side of Alma’s face. He very gently traced his fingers along Alma’s cheek, cupping it.  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, though. He only remained quiet, as he watched Tyki with clouded eyes.  
  
Pulling his hand back, Tyki shifted. He moved to slip off the dark, silken shirt he had been wearing that evening, with Alma’s eyes watching in anticipation. He could feel a surge of something excitable in his chest, as Tyki’s smooth, dark flesh was revealed, skin taught over his chest and shoulders…  
  
Then, Alma saw the scars.  
  
Large. Long. They were like kisses of lightning strikes, pale and colorless as they marred Tyki’s chest and even his upper arms. They were so prominent that Alma couldn’t even _think_ of what would have caused them – not when Tyki was a Noah of all things.  
  
Tentatively, Alma reached up as he brushed his fingers across one of the scars of Tyki’s chest.  
  
Tyki’s hand caught Alma’s, as he smirked. “Don’t worry about those,” Tyki advised, voice smooth and velvety. He then took his other hand, as he slid it up Alma’s leg, moving it under the skirt of his chiton as his hand pressed against the bare skin of Alma’s thigh. “We have more important things to focus on.”  
  
Alma shuddered. His knees instinctively crossed, thighs squishing into one another. The touch had been especially sensitive, causing a sharp chain reaction in Alma’s body. His muscles tensed and his leg twitched as a slight tingle could be felt throughout his whole being.  
  
Already noticing Alma’s reaction, Tyki continued to act. Somewhat carefully, he pushed up Alma’s chiton, bunching up the skirt so that Alma’s legs were exposed. As Tyki did this, he noticed that Alma’s legs would periodically twitch, with his thighs continuing to cross as they pressed against his groin.  
  
Tyki looked back at Alma, as he grinned. “First time?” he asked.  
  
Alma’s face flushed even more than it already was – something that was doubtlessly an indicator of the answer already.   
  
Alma swallowed, as his heart once more began to palpitate in his chest loudly. He was suddenly very aware of just…of what they were doing, and Alma almost couldn’t find it in himself to speak. _‘I’ve never…’_  
  
He nervously tried to respond, his self-consciousness suddenly hitting him hard. “Y…Yeah,” Alma said, as he found himself shifting his gaze off to the side.   
  
Tyki chuckled, as he leaned forward. His lips nearly brushed Alma’s ears, as he whispered lowly. “I’ll make sure it’s special for you then.”  
  
Alma turned his face back, mouth open as though he were about to speak. However, just as he did so he could feel Tyki’s mouth press onto his, as the Noah began to kiss him once more. Almost instantly, Alma felt his thoughts slip away. His eyes closed, as he pushed himself a bit closer to Tyki, his body gravitating toward the Noah like a magnet.   
  
Again, Tyki’s hand slid up Alma’s thigh – this time, moving toward the inner part, close to where Alma’s groin was. Gently, Tyki squeezed at the flesh.  
  
Alma shivered, as a small mewl escaped him. Eyes still shut, he broke off from the kiss, face burning from the heat that seemed to boil from within.  
  
Hot. Was it normal to feel this hot already? Some parts of Alma’s skin felt cool, but his face already felt like it was on fire, and his blood felt _scalding_…  
  
Tyki shifted, as his lips brushed against Alma’s jaw, his other hand holding the back of Alma’s head as he guided Alma so that he was pushed back against the headboard of the bed. He rested his cheek against Alma’s as a small breath escaped him. “You’re already burning up, and we haven’t even done anything yet,” Tyki noted, a hint of amusement in his voice.  
  
Alma’s cheeks somehow burned even more. Was he getting too worked up already? Alma didn’t know – he had no idea how this sort of thing actually _worked_…  
  
Again, Alma could feel Tyki’s hand move along the inner part of his thigh, and his cock twitched in response, the fabric of his underwear beginning to feel damp and taut.   
  
Tyki pushed himself back, his lips leaving the skin of Alma’s neck too soon. Alma blinked his eyes open as he watched Tyki with a hazy-eyed stare; Tyki had always been attractive, but there was something so undeniably _alluring_ about him in that moment. His hair which had been pulled back had started to fall loose, and he had such _mesmerizing_ golden eyes…  
  
Eyes locking with Alma’s, Tyki held Alma’s gaze for a moment, not a word slipping from his lips.  
  
Then, Tyki lowered himself, his face lingering just in front of Alma’s sprawled out legs before he ran his tongue against the inside of Alma’s left thigh.  
  
Alma sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening at the contact. He gripped at the headboard behind him, his back pushing up against the cool wood. The action had been so stimulating that Alma could feel his groin throb, the sensation of Tyki’s mouth against his flesh close to shocking.  
  
Tyki moved slowly, his lips brushing against Alma’s flesh and his breath warm. His tongue periodically flicked out as it dragged across the skin, a trail of saliva coating Alma’s thigh as Tyki suckled and kissed him. Firmly, Tyki moved one hand to clasp onto Alma’s hip, while Tyki’s other hand snaked against the band of Alma’s underwear where his fingers rested.  
  
Carefully, Tyki fingered the band as his eyes flickered to the bulge that had started to form. He could feel Alma’s thighs twitch and tremble, his hips periodically jutting outward like some fragile leaf tossed to the wind. The observation was one that tickled Tyki with amusement; at this rate, it wouldn’t take long for Alma to untether.  
  
Tyki’s eyes shifted upward. He could see that Alma had clamped his eyes shut, breath somewhat shallow and cheeks rosy, legs sprawled open as he pushed himself against the headboard of the bed.  
  
A rush of heat coiled inside of Tyki, as he took in the sight.  
  
Fingers still tracing the band of Alma’s underwear, Tyki pushed himself up. He again brought his face close to Alma’s, leaning in just so that their cheeks grazed one another’s. Gently, Tyki pressed a thumb against Alma’s hipbone, rubbing his digits into the soft, tender flesh.  
  
“Want me to take it off for you?” Tyki whispered.  
  
Eyes stilled closed, Alma bit his lip. A wave of nausea bubbled inside, his nerves somersaulting.  
  
“Come on, Flower Boy,” Tyki urged, voice low and sultry. “Tell me what you want – unless you prefer to stay like _this _all night.”  
  
A shiver rippled throughout Alma, as he took another shallow breath. “I…” Alma began to say, his mind fogged and thoughts muddled. What _did_ Alma want? He couldn’t think straight. He _wasn’t_ thinking straight – if he was, it would have been an easy no. He would have refused. Because Tyki was a Noah, and to be doing such an…_intimate_ thing together…  
  
Alma would have never done such a thing before.   
  
“I…I don’t know,” Alma finally managed, words pathetically frail. “I…I probably shouldn’t-“  
  
Tyki ran his hand down Alma’s hip, his palm resting on Alma’s thigh. Once there, his fingers pressed down as they massaged the flesh gently.   
  
“I didn’t ask what you _should_ do,” Tyki whispered quietly. “Just tell me what you _want_ to do...”  
  
Hearing this, Alma wavered. _‘Want…’_  
  
So close. Alma was so close to Tyki in that instance. He was so close, but he wanted to be _closer…_  
  
There was a pang in Alma’s groin, and his cock throbbed as it pushed against the confines of his underwear uncomfortably.  
  
Alma’s hand gripped at one of the pillows, leg still twitching as he felt Tyki’s hands on his body. Take a breath, Alma began to speak, his words coming out in a shallow tremor.   
  
“I…I want you to take it off…” Alma finally managed, words small and barely audible as he blearily looked off to the side. “_Please_ take it off…”  
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed, as he turned his face toward Alma. There had been a notable shyness to the way Alma uttered those words. There was something so sweetly _erotic_ about it; Tyki wasn’t sure how else to describe it.   
  
Careful. Tyki would need to be careful.  
  
Mouth pulling into a grin, Tyki allowed his lips to graze against Alma’s earlobe. “I’ll take it off then,” he whispered.  
  
Tyki didn’t wait after that, before he finally allowed his fingers to slip beneath the band of Alma’s underwear. He tugged down, causing Alma to shimmy his hips as Tyki pulled the undergarment off. Alma’s cock sprang up, hardened and dripping precum as it twitched in need.  
  
Tossing Alma’s underwear aside, Tyki then moved his hands back to Alma’s belt. Again, his fingers skittered across the diamonds and quartz, which glinted and gleamed like star-encrusted blossoms. Tyki’s hand soon reached the clasp on the side, before he undid the belt with a small _click_.  
  
Tyki slipped the belt off of Alma, allowing the silvery fabric of his chiton to flow more freely. Tyki didn’t wait before he soon helped Alma to slip that off, tugging the fabric over Alma’s head before it also was discarded off to the side.   
  
A chill passing over him, Alma wrapped his arms around himself, his legs closing back up a bit.  
  
Tyki noticed this right away, as his eyes rested on Alma. “Didn’t want to ruin that nice outfit you got – silk can be a bit of a pain to clean,” Tyki commented, as he brushed his fingers against Alma’s cheek.  
  
The touch was warm, and a small wave of comfort befell Alma as he felt Tyki’s fingertips. Slowly, he could feel his shoulders relax, as he placed his hand over Tyki’s.  
  
Tyki’s eyes gleamed, as he stared back at Alma. There was a sharp flutter of excitement in his own chest, as he took in Alma’s naked body pressed back against the headboard, a blush on his face and his eyes hazy. In his gut, Tyki could feel a pulsation of desire, hot and wanting.  
  
Tyki stared at Alma for a few seconds more, before he leaned into kiss him.  
  
It was faster this time – deeper, and more impassioned. Tyki’s tongue pushed into Alma’s mouth with ease, as a soft moan poured from the back of Alma’s throat. Their teeth clicked together, as Alma pushed himself further against Tyki, his own body evidently yearning for the interaction beyond words. Hands twisting into hair, chests pressing against one another-  
  
_Throb._  
  
Alma could feel his cock twitching, as discharge continued to leak from the head. Breaths shallow and uneven, Alma couldn’t stand to ignore it, with the pressure in his groin just _building_.  
  
Still kissing Tyki, Alma’s hand moved, as he grabbed the base of his erection tightly.   
  
The action didn’t go unnoticed, as Tyki’s hand soon clasped over Alma’s. Firmly, Tyki grasped over Alma’s hand, further squeezing the erection. His thumb rubbed up onto the head, as he rubbed discharge over the shaft, lubricating the skin beneath their hold.  
  
Alma winced, as a whine poured from the back of his throat. The friction burned, but the pressure felt so _good_ – every pump and every squeeze sent a tremor of pleasure throughout Alma, his heart thudding in his chest and his blood boiling in his veins.  
  
Once more Tyki guided Alma, moving him so that he was not as pushed up against the headboard, and more lowered to where his head was on the pillow. As Tyki did this, he released his grip on Alma’s cock, breaking the kiss as he pushed himself off of Alma.  
  
Blearily, Alma blinked his eyes opened. He looked at Tyki bewilderedly as a needy desperation burned in his eyes.  
  
Tyki didn’t bother to explain, before he reached over to grab the ointment from the nightstand. Undoing the lid, he took some of the ointment and lathered it onto his fingers, his eyes moving to Alma’s for a small second.  
  
Then, Tyki took his fingers, as he reached down beneath Alma’s ballsack, and pressed down onto his entrance.  
  
Alma’s whole body jolted, his eyes widening as a shocked gasp jumped from his lungs.   
  
Tyki chuckled, unable to conceal his amusement. Gingerly, he fingered Alma’s hole, the tight rim of muscle having tensed up. “It’ll feel good if you relax a bit,” Tyki advised, before his lips curled into a teasing smirk. “Unless you prefer it a little rougher – I don’t mind either way.”  
  
Alma’s face turned scarlet, as he was almost too stunned to respond. “W-what?” Alma stammered, not even sure what Tyki was intending to _do._  
  
Tyki hummed, his fingers still playing around Alma’s entrance. They were still slick with lubricant, with his index finger dangerously close to poking inside. “You know,” Tyki said, words smooth. “Being inside you.”  
  
Alma’s stomach coiled tightly, as the implication sank in. _‘Inside…’_  
  
Leaning down, Tyki brushed his lips against the crook of Alma’s neck, his mouth tracing up to Alma’s jaw. “I can go slow,” Tyki promised softly. “It feels pretty good once you get used to it.”  
  
Alma chewed the inside of his cheek, as Tyki’s words melted into his ear like butter. Admittedly, he was at a bit of a loss; the suggestion was not something that Alma had anticipated, and it was so _intimate_. Granted, all that they had done so far was intimate, and Alma…  
  
Alma didn’t want it to stop. Not really.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma looked off to the side, cheeks still reddened and expression bashful. “O-okay…” he finally managed, words tinged with a bit of anxiousness.  
  
Tyki’s eyes lingered on Alma, as he took in the way Alma suddenly appeared self-conscious. Without speaking, Tyki leaned forward, as he gently placed a kiss on Alma’s cheek – a surprisingly tender action, and one that offered a small promise of security.  
  
For whatever reason, that kiss was enough to ease Alma. Almost.  
  
Sitting back up, Tyki adjusted himself. He could feel his own erection pushing against the confines of his trousers – something that up until now he had been fighting to ignore. Something that he was _still_ trying to ignore.  
  
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy to ignore that pulsation in his cock – not when Alma was stretched out below him, vulnerable and naked with that pleading _look_ in his eyes…  
  
Focusing, Tyki ran his fingers over the puckered rim of skin, his own flesh burning as sweat was beginning to collect at the small of his back. Again, he could feel the tightness of Alma’s muscles, which twitched every time Tyki’s finger pressed down – and he could feel the sharp tremor when he finally slid a finger inside.  
  
Tyki’s eyes flickered back to Alma, who had shut his eyes tightly, face turned as he pressed it into the pillow. A small, muffed whine spilled out once more, as Alma’s chest trembled with shaky, uneven breaths.  
  
Slowly, Tyki began to pump his finger. He was careful as he did this, periodically gaging for any reaction Alma made. As expected, Tyki needed to go slowly; Alma was adjusting, but very gradually, and it wasn’t until a few moments had passed that Tyki was finally able to slip in a second finger, where he could finally begin to work Alma open.  
  
Alma sucked in, the second finger sending a sharp pain of discomfort throughout him. He grimaced, as he clamped his eyes shut once more, as moisture collected at the corners.  
  
It burned. God, it was burning, and it _hurt…_  
  
Eyes flickering up, Tyki noticed this. As he paused his scissoring, he took his one free hand, reaching up as he cupped the side of his face.   
  
“Easy, Flower Boy,” Tyki soothed. “It’ll feel a lot better if you don’t tense up so much.”  
  
Mutely, Alma nodded. He took another breath – this one deeper, and heavier – as he slowly opened his eyes.  
  
Tyki waited a moment, until he could feel the muscles in Alma’s buttocks relax. Once he did, he continued with his scissoring, as he slowly pushed Alma open even more.  
  
Another deep breath, and Alma could feel his cock twitch again. A soft mewl escaped him as he clasped at the bedsheets, hips rolling forward and closer to Tyki.  
  
Tyki’s lips twitched upward, eyes approving. He slipped his fingers out of Alma, before he finally began to undo the front of his trousers, tugging them low enough just to release his cock, veins bulging and pearls of precum collecting on the head.  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted, as he raised his head just enough. As his eyes landed on Tyki’s erection, he could feel his heart leap into his throat, his gut throbbing heatedly.  
  
Taking his erection, Tyki ran the remains of the ointment and his precum down the shaft, before he pushed his hips close to Alma. Very carefully, he aligned the head with Alma’s hole, the tip just beginning to press inside.  
  
Alma took a deep breath. _‘Just relax…’_  
  
Tyki checked Alma one last time, before he pushed in.  
  
Alma’s eyes shut even more tightly, as a half-cry escaped him. The fingering, the scissoring – it hadn’t quite been enough to prepare him for the girth of Tyki’s cock, which burrowed deep into Alma’s backside as it scraped against the nerves like a bundle of needles. Every push and every pull was so much, and Alma was quickly becoming so _overwhelmed.  
  
_Chest heaving, Alma gripped at the sheets, his erection suddenly beginning to burn with the pressure inside his abdomen coiling up. His thighs twitch, Alma swiftly grabbed at his shaft, as he squeezed down – more because he needed a distraction than to relieve himself.  
  
Tyki pulled back his hips, before he pushed into Alma once more – this time deeper, and with more force. He had taken hold of the corner of Alma’s pillow with one hand to steady himself, while his other hand soon snaked down to Alma’s, which was still curled around his erection.  
  
Again, Tyki pushed, this time as he squeezed onto Alma’s cock simultaneously.  
  
Alma gasped, his voice jumping an octave. The push had burned, but this time it had felt good – so good, as though Tyki had struck some magical spot that filled Alma with such _pleasure_. It filled his insides and warmed his belly, his whole body yearning with need.  
  
Gradually, Tyki began to move faster, his hips thrusting deeper into Alma with every motion. Thick, heavy grunts escaped him as he gritted his teeth, cock pushing as far into Alma as possible.  
  
Harder. _Faster_. The cautionary motions had soon disintegrated, with Alma feeling as though he had nearly lost himself. Suddenly, all he could think about was how he needed Tyki _closer_ – as close as possible, with his cock inside Alma, and their hands squeezing at his length-  
  
Alma’s hips racked forward, the pressure quickly become too much. His senses nearly overloaded, Alma couldn’t even think before something inside him just _broke_. His legs trembled, toes curling as he cried out once more, clasping desperately at the bedsheets as his hips jutted forward, cum spilling from his cock and onto his bare abdomen.  
  
Tyki watched, his own eyes wanton. Quickly, he continued to ram himself into Alma’s backside, forcefully keeping with the momentum before he could feel himself snap, his body climaxing as he came within Alma, filling him to the brim with hot seed.  
  
Tyki took a breath, grunting as his chest heaved. His long, dark curls were now clinging to his face, with beads of sweat trickled down his skin.  
  
Heavily, Tyki allowed himself to collapse onto his elbows, his body still an inch or so above Alma’s.   
  
Alma tried to catch his breath. He…he felt _exhausted_, more than anything. There was still a strange tingle in his toes, his whole body still aquiver with his limbs feeling as though they had been liquefied. He felt so hot and sticky, with sweat and cum soiling his skin unpleasantly. He felt so hot, and so _tired._  
  
Blearily, Alma blinked his eyes open as he looked up. Tyki’s face was down, his dark curls obscuring his face. Alma could barely see Tyki, and without thinking he reached up to brush Tyki’s hair out of his face.  
  
Tyki caught Alma’s hand just before Alma could do so.  
  
Wordlessly, Tyki pulled himself from Alma, cum leaking out from Alma’s entrance and onto his legs. Not caring to clean up, Tyki merely pushed himself off to the side, rolling onto his back before he scooped an arm under Alma to pull him close.  
  
Alma’s heart skipped, as he could feel his back press against Tyki’s chest, skin warm and smooth. Gently, Alma could feel the rhythmic rise and fall and Tyki’s chest, which was soft and lulling to Alma’s senses.  
  
Slowly, Alma could feel himself sink against Tyki, as his head rested back against Tyki’s shoulder. And soon, Alma could feel his eyes grow heavy.  
  
It was only seconds before Alma fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know - I KNOW - it’s taken damn well forever to get to this point, and I’m crossing my fingers that this was some payoff for the slowburn. XD Honestly, I was close to exploding by the time I wrote this. I had originally intended for this to happen earlier but, ah, these idiots have minds of their own (Alma especially wasn’t helpful, what with how avoidant he was).
> 
> I went back and forth on how this scene would happen. In an earlier version, it was more aggressive - but that didn’t feel right for either of them. Alma’s still very much in this naive, unsuspecting role where he hasn’t cultivated being assertive. He also just doesn’t really know much about intimacy at all; he knows some of the bare basics, but his interpretation of sex up until this point is pretty vanilla and Tyki of course is going to have to show him how things work (though, Tyki does get carried away at a point).
> 
> This is definitely a turning point in their relationship. Up until now there’s been this back and forth where Alma will feel comforted with Tyki, then question it (with Tyki more struggling with how he feels in general). But now that things have crossed that intimate point, emotions are only going to get messier and with how the plot is forming, something is bound to happen. *cough*
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (and again, crossing my fingers this made up for the slow build XD)! As always, comments and feedback are welcome! ;3


	20. Hints of Honeysuckle

_Tyki’s skin was warm.  
  
It was warm, and it felt _nice_ – nice and comforting. That was all Alma could think as Tyki’s body loomed over his, their bare chests pressing against one another, limbs entangled beneath silken sheets and twisted into satin covers.  
  
Alma desperately clasped at Tyki’s shoulder, with one hand curling around his back as he clung to Tyki’s body. Between them, he could feel their skin stick as sweat trickled from their bodies in the heat of their closeness.   
  
Closer. Alma wanted to be closer.  
  
His hips pushed up, his cock pressing up against Tyki’s abdomen. In response, Alma could feel Tyki slipping inside him, pushing deep into his backside as he stretched him open.   
  
A deep breath escaped Alma as he rocked his hips back and forth, with Tyki holding the back of his head for support. Face burrowing into Alma’s hair, Alma could feel Tyki’s hot breath as it poured onto his ears.  
  
“Easy, Flower Boy,” Tyki whispered. “I got you…”  
  
Alma shuddered, his legs quivering.   
  
Closer – he just wanted to be _closer_…  
  
“Tyki…” Alma murmured, as he nudged his face near Tyki’s and his eyes closed..  
  
Tyki shifted. He pulled back, dark curls falling down as his golden eyes peered at Alma. Vision hazed, Tyki lifted his hand as his fingers traced the side of Alma’s face-  
  
Fingers that felt like cold, sharp blades.  
  
Alma blinked, his vision blurring into focus. Somewhat bewilderedly, he looked back at Tyki.  
  
It wasn’t Tyki.  
  
Ugly. Monstrous. Whatever it was, its features were distorted: a grotesque anomaly blurred into shadowy darkness, as it loomed over Alma’s body with razor-sharp claws and an elongated form.   
  
Somehow, the creature looked familiar – which only made it all the more terrifying.  
  
Blood turning cold, Alma tried to scramble away, eyes horror-stricken and wide. “G-Get away from me!” Alma shouted, as he tried to break free of the monster’s grasp. “Get off! Get _off-_!”  
  
His attempts were in vain, as the creature only continued to pin Alma down. Its cold, leathery flesh brushed against Alma’s skin, and its blade-like claws continued to press dangerously close to his face.  
  
Alma was panicking. He didn’t know what this thing was, and he didn’t know where Tyki had gone. Fear spiking, Alma struggled as he tried to scream for help.  
  
“Tyki!” Alma called desperately. “_Tyki-_!”  
  
  
_

* * *

_  
  
_Alma’s eyes opened wide, as he awoke with a start. Adrenaline pumping, Alma felt disoriented, as alarm and fear continued to surge throughout his body. He tossed about, turning as he could feel the sheets twist around his limbs, his legs kicking as he came to.  
  
Soon, Alma’s vision came into focus – and he realized that he had been dreaming.  
  
A few heavy breaths escaping him, Alma tried to sit up as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He winced; he felt a sharp pain in his backside, causing his muscles to tighten.   
  
Gritted his teeth, Alma exhaled. He had to wait until the pain subsided before he could slowly push himself up into more of a sitting position, where he then turned around to look beside him.  
  
When he did, Alma could see that no one else was in the bed.  
  
Immediately, Alma felt his heart drop. He at first couldn’t think of why, with his mind muddled and thoughts a haze. There was just a notably _empty_ feeling inside him – one that was laced with heavy disappointment.   
  
Before Alma could even try to rationalize his feelings, a single thought slipped into his mind.  
  
_‘Where did Tyki go?’_ Alma wondered, the logic catching up to him a second after.  
  
Alma’s body stilled.  
  
The night before. The twisted ankle. Tyki carrying him back to his room. Tyki kissing him, with their bodies unclothed and their bodies so _close_…  
  
Alma’s face heated up, his attention now alert and the memories waking him up even more. Quickly, he tugged the bedsheets over him further as he was suddenly aware of his still nakedness. However, the action was one he soon regretted; on his abdomen, Alma could feel something dry and crusting, which rubbed against the sheets unpleasantly.  
  
Alma grimaced, before he ran his hands over his face. God, what had he _done_? Had he really…had he really _slept _with Tyki…?  
  
A rush of heat overtaking Alma, he shifted his legs beneath the covers. In doing this, he was suddenly aware that he was hard, and his groin was throbbing slightly.  
  
Alma shivered, as he pressed his thighs together. Before he could stop himself, he thought back to how closely Tyki had been that previous night – to how tightly Tyki had held onto Alma, and how deeply _inside_ of Alma that he had been.  
  
There was a knock at the door, startling Alma. Quickly, he bunched the covers over his lap, desperate to hide his erection.   
  
“Y-yes?” Alma asked.  
  
The door opened, and Lala walked in. She looked a bit surprised when she saw Alma wrapped up in blankets, and a hint of concern appeared in her eyes.  
  
“I came to come check on you,” Lala said, placing down a bundle of fresh laundry on a chair. “Lord Tyki found me not too long ago and told me you hurt your ankle last night. Are you alright?”  
  
Alma’s response was delayed, with his mind immediately fixating on the name _Tyki_. He swiftly caught himself and nodded his head. “Yeah…yeah, I’m alright,” he said. He placed a hand on his ankle under the covers, the bandages still on from the previous night. “I’ve just been…trying to stay off it.”  
  
“That’s good - it’ll heal better if you do.”  
  
Lala then became a bit more hesitant, as she spoke again. “Lord Tyki did insist I change your bedsheets today though – I know it’s probably a bit inconvenient given your ankle,” Lala explained. “I was wondering if you’d want to soak in the bath for a bit? That may do your ankle some good, and I can change out the sheets while you’re in there.”  
  
Alma could feel a blush threatening to rise to his face. Again, he could feel himself become hyperaware of the crusted _filth_ on the sheets, and could only nod his head.  
  
“Um…yeah. That’ll be nice,” Alma said as he tried to conceal any awkwardness he felt. He couldn’t say he was very successful, but if Lala noticed anything, she was graceful in her discretion. For that, Alma was grateful. As much as he liked Lala, he wasn’t sure if he’d have it in him to ever discuss what has transpired the night before.  
  
“Um…did Tyki said anything else?” Alma asked, adjusting the sheets over his body. He could slowly feel himself begin to grow lax, but was still too self-conscious to allow himself any peace of mind.  
  
Lala hummed thoughtfully. “Mm…not really. He just wanted to make sure I would check on you, and make sure you’re feeling alright,” she said, before she seemed to recall something. “Oh! He said he’d try to stop by later, if you’d like for him to.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma’s ears perked up as his heart skipped a beat. “He said that?”  
  
Lala nodded. “Yes – would you like him to come by later? I can let him know.”  
  
Alma hesitated, his heart beating in his chest. The disappointment he had felt previously seemed to diminish, and an abrupt, excitable flutter filled his stomach.  
  
“Uh,” Alma tried to speak, as he swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, if…if he really wants to…”  
  
Lala smiled at Alma gently. “I’ll let him know then,” she said before then changing the subject. “Do you need any help walking? If so, I can help you to the bath-“  
  
“No!” Alma said, as he bunched the sheets closer so that his naked body was concealed. He quickly tried to calm himself, as he saw Lala’s perplexed expression. “Er, I mean – it’s not that far, and I should be fine. Um...maybe if I just have a few minutes?”  
  
Lala hesitated. She still seemed a bit somewhat confused, but didn’t argue. “Of course,” she said, with a small nod. “I’ll just step outside for a bit to let you get settled – if you need anything just call, alright?”  
  
Alma nodded.  
  
Lala stepped out of the room after that, allowing for Alma to exhale a small breath of relief. Glancing around, his eyes landed on the ointment on the nightstand as well as some extra bandages. Alma grabbed them, before he shifted his body, in preparation to stand.  
  
Again, Alma was promptly aware of how _sore_ he felt, but he tried to ignore it. He then carefully tried to get onto his legs with him attempting to place the majority of his weight on his right foot. So far, it felt alright.  
  
Then, Alma stepped onto his left foot and nearly lost his balance.  
  
Alma caught himself against the nightstand. He took a small breath as he tried once more to take a step forward. He had to limp, doing his best to be as gentle on his left foot as possible. Because of this he moved slower than normal; soon enough, Alma was able to make it to the bathroom door and shut it behind him.  
  
As soon as he was inside, Alma made his way over to the bathing pool. He sat down along the edge, undoing the bandages on his left foot and ankle. In doing this, Alma could see that on the side of his ankle the bruise had already started to darken to purple, but otherwise didn’t look too horrible – if anything, it wasn’t as swollen as he had feared it would be.  
  
Sighing, Alma carefully slipped himself into the water.  
  
The water was soothing – more so than Alma had realized it would be. Not only did the warm water feel good against his ankle, but it felt good against Alma’s _whole body._   
  
A heavy breath escaping Alma, he sank further into the water, allowing it to come up to his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how worn out he was, but when he thought about it…the previous night had been _a lot_.   
  
_‘It doesn’t even seem real…’_ Alma thought, as his mind traced back to the previous night.  
  
Alma still couldn’t believe that he had done it – that of all things, he had been intimate with _Tyki_. Alma was honestly in partial shock; he never would have thought himself someone to allow for such physicality. His family was so traditional and had always taught Alma that such relationships were best suited for marriage.   
  
Yet, here Alma was, and he had just…been with a _Noah_.   
  
_‘But…he’s not like the other Noah…’_ Alma couldn’t help but think. He brought his fingers to his lips. _‘He’s not…’_  
  
Alma didn’t finish the thought as a strange chill rippled throughout him – one that even the steam of the bath could not warm.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Tyki hadn’t been able to get Alma out of his head – not ever since he had woken up.  
  
Tyki exhaled, as he leaned back in the chair. He had found a small study, one that was vacant and hardly ever used. A few old books lined the shelves while the window remained cracked open, a small breeze trickling through. As always, the sky outside was dark, and nothing more that the ceiling of a gem-encrusted cavern: a mere illusion of the night sky, misleading and mocking.  
  
Silently, Tyki realized that Alma would have probably liked to have gone outside. Maybe when his ankle was better, Tyki would ask if Alma wanted to go.  
  
Another breath escaped Tyki as he ran his hand through his hair. He had almost been tempted to have remained in bed with Alma – at least until he had awakened. But Alma had been out cold, and for all Tyki knew Flower Boy would have slept the whole day away.  
  
Tyki just needed to stop thinking about it. Flower Boy would be fine. He had the doll girl to help check on him.  
  
_‘Except…’_ Tyki thought, a small frown tugging at his lips. _‘That incident…’_  
  
_“But I just _heard them_!” Alma argued as he refused to accept Tyki’s words. As he refused to accept that his parents were not there, hidden away in that dark corridor. “I know I did, so let me see them!”_  
  
Tyki’s frown remained. Alma had been convinced that he had heard his parents somehow – something that even Tyki knew couldn’t have been possible. While there were different forms of magic and sorcery, Tyki knew that Alma was likely limited in them, with his powers only extending to plants and nature.  
  
At least, Tyki had been convinced a much – until he had seen Alma’s fingertips.  
  
It had been fleeting – so much that Tyki wasn’t even certain if Alma was aware of any of it. But, Tyki _knew_ what he saw. He knew that he had seen those wisps of ultraviolet light melting into Alma’s fingertips, like stains of amethyst trickling through his veins. He had _seen_ traces of dark matter.  
  
Tyki had no idea why Alma had had them. Not when he was some little deity from the above realm, supposedly unscathed and untouched by such things.  
  
_‘It doesn’t make sense,’_ Tyki thought, feeling somewhat frustrated. Was he missing something? Flower Boy had seemed straightforward enough with how naïve and sheltered he was. But now…  
  
Tyki would need to find out.   
  
Pushing himself out of his chair, Tyki walked out of the study – though he was soon stopped, as he saw that he wasn’t the only person in the corridor.  
  
Sheril stopped walking, just as he had approached where Tyki was. His sharp, yellow eyes seemed to glow within the darkness, cat-like and piercing. As always, he was polished and put together – a complete contrast to Tyki’s more casual demeanor.   
  
“I was wondering where you’ve been,” Sheril said as he smiled politely at Tyki – a smile that Tyki knew was more a mask than anything else. “You disappeared after dinner last night. I thought you’d have joined the rest of us in the lounge.”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “I had other things to do,” Tyki said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Tryde skipped too – you know how he is.”  
  
A hint of annoyance flickered in Sheril’s eyes. “That doesn’t exactly make it acceptable,” Sheril pointed out, a sniff of disapproval escaping him. “I hope you weren’t wasting your time on that Chang boy – I don’t even know why Lord Millennium insist he dine with us. The boy can’t even hold a fork properly.”  
  
Tyki snickered, amused by the source of Sheril’s irritation. “No one gives a shit about that sort of thing except you anymore,” Tyki pointed out. “Anyways, I thought dinner went well – Flower Boy behaved, and didn’t cause any problems.”  
  
“Better he not have,” Sheril said, before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s become so exhausting to keep him here – I swear, his family has been dreadfully disappointing in their lack of incentive to negotiate.”  
  
To this, Tyki raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” he asked, intrigue nipping his tongue. “If it’s turned out to be so burdensome, why even have bothered in the first place? Hell, just send him back if you feel like it.”  
  
Sheril snorted. “After all we’ve already done? No, we’ve come too far, and I won’t allow us to embarrass ourselves by admitting to such a defeat,” he clipped. “As annoying as he is, he still valuable.”  
  
Something in Tyki’s eyes flashed, interest and curiosity beginning to burn. “And why is that exactly?” he asked.  
  
Sheril paused. He didn’t answer immediately, and looked back at Tyki with a small, pensive frown. “Excuse me?”  
  
Tyki crossed his arms, as he slouched back against the wall. “I guess I’m just wondering why you decided to take _Flower Boy_ – he has a brother, who from what I know isn’t that bright, so why not have taken him? The older one _is_ the heir the Changs seem to have been breeding to carry on their politics,” Tyki pointed out. “Unless there’s some other detail I’m missing.”  
  
Quietly, Sheril stared back at Tyki. His expression had turned cool and distant as he appeared to contemplate Tyki’s words.  
  
A small, slow smile tugged at Sheril’s lips. “As I said – he’s valuable. He must be, if his parents went to such trouble to keep him so protected all these years.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. His face was somewhat neutral, as a hint of displeasure glimmered in the corner of his eyes. However, he remained calm, and he didn’t outright challenge Sheril’s response. Not yet.  
  
“Guess so,” Tyki finally said, as a hint of wariness clung to his words.  
  
There was the sound of a small _scuff_ down the hall, causing both Tyki and Sheril’s attention to shift. As they both turned, they could see that just around the corner was the doll girl, who looked somewhat sheepish and as though she had just made some mistake.  
  
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Lala began to apologize, as she stepped forward. “I didn’t mean to interrupt-“  
  
“It’s fine,” Sheril clipped dismissively. “What is it you want?”  
  
Lala shifted. “I was looking for Lord Tyki,” she said, before her good eye shifted over to Tyki. “I finished attending to Alma as you asked – he’s resting now but did express interest in having company if you have time later.”  
  
Tyki’s ears perked up, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Fantastic – I’ll have to be sure to stop by later on this evening.”  
  
Lala nodded, before her eye once more shifted to Sheril. Then then quietly excused herself, before slipping away.  
  
Once Lala was gone, Tyki turned back to Sheril. As he anticipated, there was a somewhat irritable, disapproving look in Sheril’s eyes – almost as though he were preparing to scold Tyki.  
  
Without missing a beat, Tyki grinned. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Tyki playfully poked. “You were just now going on about how _valuable_ he is – so I’m going to make sure he’s treated as such.”  
  
Sheril frowned, eyes narrowed. However, he said nothing more as Tyki walked off.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was in his room for the whole day.  
  
He didn’t have many options; with his ankle still injured, the farthest he could make it was to the bathroom and a little around the bedroom. Unfortunately, even that could be a bit trying; it only took one wrong step and Alma’s ankle would sear with pain.  
  
Because of this, he had to do his best to keep his restless spirit at bay.  
  
Alma was lucky in this regard. After the previous night’s activities, he was still worn out. The bath had helped, but if anything had only made him drowsy; combining that with a fresh set of clothing and clean sheets had been a perfect recipe for sleepiness, with Alma actually having dozed off again not long after.   
  
He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but it was undoubtedly for a good part of the day. When Alma finally woke up, he could actually see that Lala must have come by while he was asleep, having left a tray of food on the nightstand. It was still hot, with the contents being a bowl of lentil soup, some fresh bread, and roasted vegetables.  
  
The scent wafted into the air, causing Alma’s mouth to water. He’d have to thank Lala when he saw her later – he felt a bit off and sluggish with having been in bed most of the day, but soup sounded like the perfect thing just then.  
  
Alma ate quickly, his hunger more prominent than he had realized. Once finished, he felt a small burst of energy, his mind less foggy and his senses heightened.   
  
_‘That feels better…I probably should have asked Lala for something sooner,’_ Alma thought, as he placed the tray back. He glanced around the room, the added energy adding to his restlessness, and his attention soon landed on the divan beneath the window.  
  
Fresh air. Fresh air would be good.  
  
Carefully, Alma got out of bed. By now he had better learned to gage how much weight he could put on his left foot, making walking a _little_ less risky. It was a relief that the divan wasn’t too far off and somewhat clumsily he limped his way over.  
  
Sitting on the divan, there was a small bit of pain in Alma’s backside. He tried to ignore it, and unlocked the window as he pushed the glass panel open. A gust of frosty air brushed by, immediately causing him to shiver. Alma had only bothered to dress in a nightshirt, what with having to be cooped up all day. However, the air was crisp and fresh – it was a welcome change to the stuffiness of being inside.  
  
Grabbing one of the pillows on the divan, Alma wrapped his arms around it, as his eyes flickered down. Below, he could see the hedge maze, spiraling into darkness as it stretched on endlessly.   
  
_‘I wonder what’s in there…’_ Alma thought, before his attention traced to the window. As he looked, he could see that some of the flowers and blossoms he had been growing were beginning to look a bit tired.  
  
Reaching up, Alma stroked his fingers across some of the vines as they traced along the edge of the window. The blossoms instantly brightened as the flowers bloomed out even more. Even a few new flowers sprouted at Alma’s touch: some smaller shrub flowers and a few honeysuckle...  
  
A small smile appeared on Alma’s face, his eyes a bit distant. “You probably would have preferred somewhere sunnier,” Alma said. “I would too.”  
  
As Alma spoke, he could hear something flutter, and looked up. When he did, he could see that the two teases Tyki had given him had flown over, with one landing on one of the flowers near the top window. The second flew down closer to Alma before it landed near the windowsill.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at the tease. “Ah, I wasn’t trying to be offensive,” he said, as he shifted his position on the divan. “It’s not…so bad here. Lala is really nice, and…Tyki is too.”  
  
In saying this, Alma could feel his voice grow quiet, as his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t really fond of being in the Underworld. The Noah had been anything but pleasant, and the games and mockeries were draining to endure. But when Alma really thought about it…  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma thought. _‘No, what are you _thinking?_’_  
  
Alma shook his head. He didn’t even want to acknowledge what he had just been about to think, with his loyalty to his family far too great. What would they have even thought? Alma realized with guilt that he hadn’t even thought of them much that day and he felt a sharp pang in his chest.   
  
_‘Mother and Father will still be worried…’ _Alma thought, expression falling.  
  
The tease shifted, as it fluttered over to Alma’s shoulder. Perching itself there, its wing brushed against Alma in an almost comforting way.  
  
Alma’s smile returned as he looked back at the tease. “Thanks.”  
  
Alma remained still after that, curled up on the divan as he remained beside the open window. To his surprise, he could actually feel himself beginning to feel a bit drowsy again, with the energy the food had provided him wearing off. Alma didn’t really have it in him to fight it though; his eyelids growing heavy, he closed them as his consciousness began to slip away once more.  
  
It was hard for Alma to tell how long he was like that for – possibly a few minutes, or perhaps and hour. Within a blink time was distorted, slipping away before he eventually heard what sounded like footsteps – some that were simultaneously close by and far away.   
  
Alma shifted a bit as he shivered. The air from the open window felt cold against his skin, and he curled up on the divan in an attempt to warm himself.  
  
There was a _click_, and the sound of the glass panel could be heard shutting.   
  
The noise, although not loud, somewhat startled Alma. Awakening abruptly, his eyes blinked open, bleary and hazed. “Huh-“ Alma began to speak, before he felt a sharp _sting _in his behind. Wincing, he faltered.  
  
“Don’t worry, Flower Boy,” a familiar voice spoke. “I’m just shutting this window – you’re going to freeze sleeping in front of it like that.”  
  
Vision blurring into focus, Alma pushed himself up a bit more carefully. As he did, he was surprised to see that Tyki was standing there, having just closed the window and looking at Alma with a hint of amusement.  
  
“Sleep well?” Tyki asked. “Lala told me you were resting all day. Guess I must have really worn you out then.”  
  
By this point, Alma was awake enough to know what Tyki meant. He blushed, cheeks turning rosy – even more so when he realized that he was only in a nightshirt.  
  
Alma shifted as he pulled his legs up close. The nightshirt was long enough that it went down to his thighs, but he was still more bare than he would have preferred. “I didn’t realize you’d be coming by now,” Alma said, as he could feel his heart threaten to catch in his throat.  
  
Tyki leaned against the wall as he looked down at Alma. “Would you rather I leave?”  
  
Alma’s head shot up, as he shook his head. “No! No, stay-“ Alma said, as he readjusted his sitting position once again. He again could feel another stab of discomfort though, and again flinched.  
  
Tyki noticed, as he raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I’m just a little sore…” he said, as he looked off to the side.  
  
Tyki’s expression turned pensive as he sat down on the other end of the divan. Crossing his legs, he looked over at Alma, eyes skimming over his appearance. “Where at?” he asked, tone casual.  
  
Alma paused. Somewhat self-consciously, he kept his gaze averted.   
  
“Um,” Alma stammered, body language awkward and uneasy. “Um…just…behind.”  
  
There was a bit of a pause, as Tyki quickly caught on. However, before he could speak, Alma swiftly added, “Ah, it’s not horrible! It’s just if I sit down in certain positions…”  
  
Alma’s voice trailed off, as he felt Tyki’s fingers brush against his cheek. Alma looked up, his blue eyes immediately meeting Tyki’s golden ones as he felt his heart freeze up in his chest.  
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze for a moment, before he spoke. “I probably got a bit too carried away toward the end of last night,” he admitted, his words holding a tinge of sincerity. “Sorry about that.”  
  
Alma’s pulse quickened, as he quickly looked away. “It’s okay…”  
  
“Your ankle doing any better?” Tyki asked.  
  
“A little,” Alma answered. He glanced down at his bandages. “I can get around a bit more easily, but I just can’t put too much weight on it.”  
  
“Give it a few days,” Tyki said, before a hint of a smile glinted in his eyes. “Lord Millennium wants you to continue to have dinner with us, but I let him know you had a little fall. He sends his regards.”  
  
As soon as Tyki said this, Alma felt his stomach drop. “I…I’ll have to have dinner with everyone again?” he asked, feeling overwhelmed by the mere thought. He had thought that the dinner was a one-time thing – not something he’d have to do regularly.  
  
A curious look appeared in Tyki’s eyes, as he looked at Alma questioningly. “Unless you want to stay isolated,” Tyki noted, before his mouth broadened into a smirk. “Is my family really that terrible?”  
  
Alma wavered. Tyki didn’t appear to understand, which only caused Alma to feel worse – would Tyki think that Alma was getting upset for no reason? The thought weighed on Alma more than it should have, as an unpleasantly cold feeling washed over him.  
  
Looking toward the window, Alma spoke, words quiet. “Your family doesn’t exactly like me that much…”  
  
Whether it was the tone in which Alma spoke or the words themselves, something appeared to register within Tyki. Smirk diminishing, his eyes rested on Alma for a moment.  
  
Then, Tyki caught himself, and he chuckled gently. “My family doesn’t like that you’re a _Chang_,” Tyki pointed out. “And rightly so, given the circumstances. They did play a part in imprisoning us here.”  
  
Alma looked back up. He was a bit unprepared for Tyki’s logic and felt an unexplainable pinch of guilt.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Alma immediately apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that-“  
  
“Don’t apologize,” Tyki brushed off, before he smiled at Alma. “It’s not like you did it.”  
  
Alma inwardly cringed. “Everyone else acts like it…” he murmured, before he thought back to what Wisely had said during dinner. “And Wisely said-“  
  
“Wisely? Don’t listen to him,” Tyki urged. “He gets stuck up in his own perception of things. Thinks because he can read minds that he knows all.”  
  
Tyki then paused, as he looked at Alma with intrigue. “Have to say, I didn’t realize my family’s opinions mattered to you so much.”  
  
Alma faltered at this, mouth shutting tightly as his words caught in his throat.  
  
Sensing Alma’s inability to respond, Tyki leaned back against the other end of the divan. “Might as well not worry about it. You don’t have to go for a few days,” Tyki said. As he spoke, a small gleam appeared in his eyes. “But I bet if you tried, you could get a few of my family members to warm up to you.”  
  
Alma rubbed his arm, still averting his gaze. “Ah, I doubt that…”  
  
“I don’t know,” Tyki said. “I feel like I warmed up to you easily enough.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered up to Tyki’s, somewhat caught off guard. However, as soon as he was facing Tyki, he was completely taken aback as Tyki leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips.  
  
Alma’s surprise wore off quickly, his eyes closing. Sighing, he could only melt into the kiss as he felt Tyki’s hand entangle itself into his hair, tongue slipping inside Alma’s mouth as Tyki kissed him deeply. Alma couldn’t even think straight in that moment; like a fervor, something inexplicable overcame him, pushing him to give into any inhibitions that had been lingering inside. To give into Tyki.  
  
Slowly, Tyki guided Alma so that he was lying back on the divan, his body looming over Alma’s. He gingerly ran his hand through Alma’s hair, as he soon began to move his lips onto Alma’s jaw, planting sweet kisses all along Alma’s flesh. Tyki didn’t stop there though, as he moved down to the base of Alma’s neck; he gradually began to tug at the skin with his teeth.  
  
Alma inhaled sharply, as his knee bent upward. “T-Tyki…” Alma murmured. He clung to Tyki’s shoulders, his hips pushing upward as his nightshirt started to roll up.  
  
Still holding the side of Alma’s head, Tyki lifted his face just so that he was able to make eye contact with Alma. As he did, his eyes landed on the strange scar that stretched across the bridge of Alma’s nose, marring his boyish features from some unknown cause.  
  
Gently, Tyki took his finger and ran it over Alma’s scar. “How’d you get that?” Tyki asked, words barely above a murmur.  
  
Alma paused. He was already in somewhat of a daze, but appeared even more perplexed by the question. “I…I don’t really remember,” Alma admitted. “Mother and Father said I fell when I was really young…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, as he continued to trace over the scar, attention never once wavering. After a moment, he leaned down to place a small kiss on Alma’s lips.  
  
Tyki shifted, as he whispered into Alma’s ear. “Maybe I should stop now before I get too carried away – don’t want to wear you out even more.”  
  
Alma shivered. He looked up, just in time to see Tyki sitting back up, allowing for Alma to do the same as well.   
  
“I probably should get going for tonight,” Tyki said.   
  
“You’re not staying?” Alma asked, the words tumbling out quickly as they were kissed with disappointment. “I mean…you just got here…”  
  
Tyki hummed. “Mm. I could stay a bit longer – if you really want me to,” he said, before he flashed a charming smile at Alma. “I definitely will be back tomorrow though. Maybe if you’re feeling up to it, we can go outside.”  
  
Alma’s eyes brightened, as he sat up more. “Really?” he asked, excitement already beginning to bubble in his chest. While it wouldn’t have been Alma’s first time outside, it would have been the first time he had been out in over a week – and after being confined to his room so much, Alma was itching to go somewhere.  
  
Tyki chuckled, amused by Alma’s childlike eagerness. “Sure,” he said, eyes locking with Alma’s. “We’ll call it a date.”  
  
_‘Date,’_ Alma thought, the word nipping at the insides of his chest.   
  
Alma was getting ahead of himself. He knew he was. More than likely, Tyki hadn’t meant it literally – not in the way that some silly, frivolous part of Alma might have been hoping for. Alma knew better, too – he knew better than to think such ludicrous things.  
  
Yet, when Alma looked back into Tyki’s eyes, and felt that small skip inside his chest…  
  
Faintly, Alma managed a small smile – one that was sweet, with a little less sadness behind his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a shorter chapter, but ah, starting with the next one they get long again. XD This chapter was more dealing with some of that immediate aftermath from last chapter, and is more focused on Alma and Tyki sort of coming to terms with what happened. 
> 
> Alma is initially confused, since he’s essentially done everything he was taught not to - but at the same time, he definitely /liked/ the intimacy, and is more attracted to Tyki than ever. Considering this is his first real exposure to anything intimate/romantic, Alma’s perception is going to be more rose-colored (he’s still got those endorphins kicking) and there’s definitely more a wistful way with how he’s hoping this could turn out.
> 
> Tyki is a little more confused - though, he’s already so much softer for Alma than he cares to admit. This is mixed in a bit though with some intrigue Tyki has; he’s started to pick up on that there may be more to why Alma was abducted than the surface level reasoning Sheril has given him. So, some of his attention he’s placing on Alma is fueled by that intrigue, but the rest is definitely from something else. ;3
> 
> After this chapter, things will start kicking up again soon. Right now, these two are almost in what feels like a mini honeymoon phase - but something will shake it up soon. >:3
> 
> As always, I’d love to hear any comments or feedback! Rarepair peeps, tell me who you are so I’m not drowning in this content alone. XD (This ship is a kayak and I’m in the middle of an ocean HALP)


	21. Unlocking the Cage

There was a_ bang_ as a fist slammed onto the table. The sound echoed throughout the meeting hall as it vibrated off the crystalline walls and danced into the coiffured dome of the ceiling. It was a loud, fearsome sound – but not as fearsome as the voice that followed.  
  
“This is _unacceptable_!” Lvellier roared, face red and eyes angry. He glared across the table where both Zuu and Bak were standing. In addition to their presence, several other members of the Order were also around the table. “It’s been well over a month, and your family has refused to do anything regarding the barrier’s evaluation!”  
  
Zuu’s eyes remained hard. Despite the rage that was currently seething from Lvellier, he was unmoving and calm, with an almost icy shield about him. Patiently, Zuu waited, quiet until he had a chance to speak.  
  
“To be fair, I’d remind you that it’s almost been well over a month and I still have a grandchild in the Underworld,” Zuu reiterated, words calm and steady. “I won’t fault the rest of my family for their grief.”  
  
“Their _grief_ is costing us,” Lvellier argued. “In the last month, five more akuma have been detained. _Five._ Whatever crack has formed needs to be repaired _immediately-_”  
  
“And we _will repair it_,” Zuu argued. “Bak and I have been doing all we can to determine the way in which akuma may be escaping, but we have not yet found anything. We have even been working to strengthen seals, but it takes _time._”  
  
Before Lvellier could say anything more, Renee spoke up. “It’s not only the barrier we’re concerned about,” she pointed out. “In the last several weeks, we’ve observed abnormal shifts in the mortal realm. The harvest season should have only started, but already the plant life and crops appear to be dying – more swiftly than they should be.”  
  
There was a slight pause, as Renee looked between Zuu and Bak. “We are not certain if this change is being caused by the influx of akuma…or if it’s something being caused by Twi,” Renee noted carefully. “She _is_ the primary deity for overseeing this area of the mortal realm.”  
  
Bak’s eyes moved to Renee, the implication in her words striking him swiftly. “My mother would not discard her responsibilities so easily if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he stated, defenses beginning to rise. “She and my father and grieving, but they know the welfare of the mortals depend on them.”  
  
A spark emerged in Lvellier’s eye as he looked back at Bak challengingly. “Are you so sure? If so, I’d like to know why they haven’t been more diligent regarding the barrier.”  
  
Immediately, Bak felt himself back into a corner, his lips shutting promptly.  
  
Zuu exhaled, exasperation beginning to wear on him. “We will send word to Twi and Edgar to find out if something is going on – I’ll even go myself if I must,” he stated, before he made eye contact with Lvellier directly. “In the meantime, I’d have hoped you’d learn if there is a way to retrieve my grandson – or are we really to move on, as if he were dead?”  
  
Lvellier’s eyes were dark as he stared Zuu back in the eye. “You grandson very foolishly signed some sort of blood contract – that’s not exactly an easy thing to break,” Lvellier stated. “And without any proper reason to void it, we can’t simply stop the world for one person. Even _you_ should understand that much.”  
  
Zuu remained silent as he never once broke eye contact. “I understand perfectly well.”  
  
“Good,” Lvellier said. “Let us adjourn for today then.”  
  
The members of the Order began to depart after that, with some breaking off into smaller pockets to converse as others opted to leave the meeting hall. Among the latter was Zuu, who was briskly exiting into the hallway.  
  
Bak caught up to him. It wasn’t until they were a bit away from the doors to the entrance hall that he spoke, causing his grandfather to stop.  
  
“If you go to see Mother and Father, I should go with you,” Bak insisted.   
  
Zuu shook his head. “No, you should stay here,” he said. “At least one of us should. There’s something I really will need to discuss with your parents, and it’s something best done in person.”  
  
Bak frowned upon hearing this.   
  
Before Bak could get a chance to ask Zuu to elaborate, his attention moved to just a bit down the hall. Near one of the pillars, a figure could be seen lingering by: a shock of white hair, and a strangely marred arm…  
  
Allen Walker.  
  
Quickly, Bak returned his attention to his grandfathe, as he tried to refocus on the conversation. Before he could do so, Zuu placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“I’ll be preparing to leave here shortly,” Zuu said. “Send word for me and your parents if you hear any news.”  
  
Bak nodded his head.  
  
Zuu took his leave after that, as he walked down the hallway. As he did, he passed Allen, though Zuu made no acknowledgement of the other deity’s presence.  
  
Allen didn’t appear to notice, as he soon began to walk down the hall – stopping just where Bak was.   
  
Bak looked at Allen questioningly. “What is it?”  
  
Allen hesitated. There was a somewhat pensive look in his silvery-gray eyes, before he spoke aloud. “I heard there was another meeting today,” Allen noted, before he looked at Bak inquisitively. “Has…anything more been decided about your brother?”  
  
Bak wavered. He hadn’t had expected to be asked about Alma, and for whatever reason, the question caused his insides to lurch. Throat feeling somewhat dry, Bak forced an answer.   
  
“No,” Bak responded. “No…they…they can’t do anything. Not in this situation.”  
  
The words were heavy as they fell from Bak’s lips, the weight of the situation once more pressing down upon his shoulders. His brother. His _little_ brother. God, Bak hated to think about it; he hated to think about Alma being in the Underworld, and what it must have been like. He hated to think about Alma, who was so painfully naïve at times, and what he must have been going through…  
  
Allen looked down. There was a leaden look in his eyes, sympathetic and soft. “I’m sorry,” Allen apologized. “I only met Alma that one time, and…I’m still shocked it happened.”  
  
Bak nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “My family…we’re all worried about him. I’ve never seen my parents so distraught.”  
  
Allen frowned. “I can imagine…” he murmured. He looked back at Bak. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”  
  
Bak’s eyes flickered back to Allen. “Yes?” he asked, not entirely sure what to expect. Truth be told, Bak didn’t actually _speak_ to Allen very much – especially with Allen having been marked by some form of dark matter. A large majority of the Order kept their distance.  
  
“Usually Lvellier orders me to act as an escort to the Noah when they’re summoned, since I can go back and forth between the Underworld,” Allen explained. “But there are usually restrictions, and I can’t wander around….unless someone gives me permission.”  
  
Bak raised an eyebrow, before he glanced back near the meeting hall where Lvellier likely still was. “Hm. Well, I’m not sure how keen Lvellier would be on doing that…”  
  
“He wouldn’t,” Allen pointed out simply. “But Lvellier isn’t the _only_ one who can authorize me to go down there. Any member of the Order can.”  
  
Hearing this, Bak returned his attention to Allen, as he eyed them warily. “And that would be at the cost of risking Lvellier’s anger, I’m sure,” Bak noted. “I don’t imagine he’d be very fond of someone doing that…”  
  
“No, but the point is, they wouldn’t be in the wrong – not if they think there’s enough of a cause for a command.”  
  
Bak frowned, eyes contemplative. “What is it you’re suggesting?”  
  
Allen met Bak’s eyes, gaze determined. “If you give me the order, I can go back down to the Underworld – and I could look for Alma if you instruct it,” Allen said. “The Noah may have it so that Alma can’t send correspondences, but they didn’t specify that we couldn’t send anything to him.”  
  
Realization dawned on Bak, as it nearled slapped him across the face. “Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?” Bak questioned. “We could have tried this weeks ago!”  
  
“Do you think your family would have listened if I had approached them?” Allen asked. “With all due respect, it’s not as though people are that willing to even acknowledge me. Not when I’m…”  
  
Allen trailed off as his attention flickered off to the side. In his peripheral vision, he could see his scarred arm.  
  
Bak remained silent, as an unpleasant twist could be felt in his stomach. He knew well enough where Allen had intended to say: that he was marked. Ostracized, and written off as no more than some sort of cursed leper. That was the nature of those who were infected by dark matter – especially deities who should have drawn their magic from innocence instead.  
  
But marked deities…no. Their powers were corrupted, and came from both sources.  
  
Bak exhaled. He knew he had been no better in his treatment of Allen.  
  
“Of course,” Bak acknowledged, words tired. “Of course, I’m…I’m sorry.”  
  
Allen didn’t say anything, and the silence hung heavily between them.  
  
Bak took another breath as he looked around. The hallway had cleared out by now, with only two guards hanging back near where the doors to the meeting hall were. Neither of them appeared to be paying any mind to Bak and Allen though.  
  
Turning back to Allen, Bak spoke. “Let me write a letter – one for Alma,” Bak said. As he could feel his body shake from nerves. “It’d probably be best if you wait until tomorrow at least…things got a bit tense in that meeting.”  
  
Allen nodded in understanding. “I can do that. I doubt anyone will be needing me then.”  
  
“Good,” Bak said, before he lowered his voice. “Meet me tomorrow morning in the observatory – it should be empty.”  
  
“Will do,” Allen said. He then met Bak’s gaze a final time, as he spoke. “I know I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to find Alma…but I’ll do my best.”  
  
Bak nodded. “Thank you,” he said, words appreciative. “I know you can’t promise it…but I hope you find him.”  
  
As Bak said this, he could feel his insides squirm uneasily. He didn’t usually do this – he didn’t usually make such decisions without consulting his family. But right now, his family was broken apart, distorted by loss and distracted by grief.  
  
In his mind, an image of Alma flashed in Bak’s memory.  
  
_‘Please be okay,’_ Bak silently pleaded. _‘Please let him be okay…’_  
  
Bak could only hope.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The sound of laughter filled the air, loud and raucous. It carried over the dinner table amongst the soft clinkering of silverware.  
  
“You should have _seen_ Wisely’s face,” Devit crowed, as Jasdero giggled uncontrollably beside him. “I thought he was going to lose his shit with how terrified he was!”  
  
Across the table, Wisely glowered at the twins darkly. “You both have the maturity of _children_,” he seethed. “Interrupting me during a meditation is _not_ funny – that takes a tremendous amount of concentration!”  
  
Devit snickered. “Apparently for you, _everything_ takes a lot of concentration.”  
  
As the conversation went on, with both parties bantering, Alma quietly pushed around his food. He had managed to eat some, having finally started to become a little more used to having dinner with the Noah. It was still awkward and at times uncomfortable; Alma’s ankle had just healed a little over a week and a half ago. Because of this, he had been expected to resume having dinner with the Noah, and had done so every night ever since.  
  
Somehow, it had gotten…a little easier. Not by much, but in some ways.  
  
Glancing up, Alma’s eyes flickered to across the table. As soon as he did, his attention promptly landed on Tyki.  
  
Tyki’s golden eyes flashed, and his gaze met Alma’s. Slowly, a small cross between a smirk and a smile tugged at his lips.  
  
In his chest, Alma could feel his heart jump a bit. Before he could stop himself, a small, shy smile appeared on Alma’s face, as he broke eye contact.  
  
Not far off, Road glanced over in Alma’s direction. She happened to be only a seat away with Wisely in between her and Alma, and a knowing gleam sparked in her eye.  
  
“You’re so quiet tonight, Alma,” Road said, words honeyed in sweetness as she smiled impishly. “Are you thinking about something?”  
  
Alma looked up, somewhat caught off guard. Somewhat dumbly, he found himself unable to speak; he could suddenly feel several pairs of eyes on him and he floundered to formulate a response. “Oh. Um…”  
  
Tyki looked up. Without a beat, he spoke with ease. “Flower Boy’s been busy thinking about the Erebus,” Tyki answered, before he made eye contact with Alma. “You were talking about that earlier, weren’t you?”  
  
Alma blinked, at first confused. He hadn’t mentioned the Erebus all day to anyone, let alone Tyki.   
  
Then, it hit him: Tyki was throwing him a lifeline.  
  
Swallowing, Alma nodded, as he looked back at Road. “Um, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s coming up soon, right?”  
  
Wisely frowned as he looked at Alma dubiously. For a moment, the sight caused Alma to panic; Wisely likely knew he was lying and had no idea if the Noah would call him out. It wasn’t unlikely considering how Wisely seemed to feel about Alma.  
  
Fortunately, Road seemed to accept the response. If anything, a rush of childish excitement appeared to bubble within her eyes as she responded eagerly.   
  
“It is!” Road said, before she looked over near where the Millennium Earl and Sheril were. “We’re extra excited for this one – we’ll have a lot to be celebrating.”  
  
The Millennium Earl chuckled. “We hope so, that is,” he said, before looking over at Alma. There was a wide, boisterous smile on his face. “We’re looking forward to having you join us, Moonflower. It’ll be a splendid time!”  
  
The eagerness in which the Earl spoke was not mutual as Alma felt himself squirm a bit in his seat. The Erebus has started to come up more as the date for it drew closer, but Alma couldn’t say it was something he was necessarily looking forward to. Gala or not, being with Noah and among so many of the undead was…nerve-wracking.   
  
Despite this, Alma swallowed as he forced a weak smile onto his face. He had learned to do that much in the Earl’s presence, if anything.   
  
“I’m looking forward to it too,” Alma managed, though his voice felt a little strained.  
  
“You should be,” Fiidora commented, as he leaned back in his chair. From across the table, he eyed Alma with a smirk. “Didn’t your parents keep you hidden away your whole life, or something like that? Bet you’ll be excited to see what a real party is like.”  
  
Alma stilled, tensing slightly. “My parents didn’t keep me hidden away.”  
  
Fiidora shrugged. “What else would you call it? Heard you never even left home – they might as well have locked you up,” he said, before he grinned over at Alma. “Just saying.”  
  
“Fiidora, be _polite,_” Lord Millennium insisted. “We’re having such a nice dinner, and our little Moonflower is finally enjoying himself here.”  
  
Wisely scoffed. “I don’t know if our guest would agree…”  
  
Alma turned back to Wisely, somewhat sharply. A frown had appeared on his face, his blue eyes flashing indignantly before an impulsive, split-second decision was made.  
  
There was a ruckus as Wisely suddenly shouted, hands clasping over his ears. “Ow, ow, _ow_!” Wisely cried out. “Knock that _off!_”  
  
Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing, as they all looked at Wisely questioningly. Road was the first to speak though as she leaned over.   
  
“What’s wrong, Wisely?” Road asked as feigned concern was heard in her voice. “Is something giving you a migraine?”  
  
Wisely took a breath, as whatever seemed to have caused him any pain seemed to wear off. “More like someone,” he hissed. His yellow eyes burned in aggravation as his head whipped back in Alma’s direction, a scathing glare in his eyes. “You have some nerve _screaming _like that.”  
  
Alma looked back at Wisely, an oddly cool look bleeding into his gaze. “I’m sorry – I didn’t think you’d be _prying_ through my thoughts.”  
  
Across the table, Tyki snickered. “Watch out, Wisely,” Tyki warned. “Flower Boy has some thorns hidden in there.”  
  
Wisely only appeared more incensed as he huffed.  
  
Sheril looked over, a disapproving glimmer in his eyes. He didn’t say anything directly to Alma or Wisely, and instead turned his attention to the Millennium Earl.   
  
“It’s getting late,” Sheril pointed out. “If our guest is finished, perhaps he should retire to his room – I believe there was something you wanted to discuss with the rest of us?”  
  
Hearing this, Alma looked over, the momentary wisp of satisfaction he had just felt quickly disintegrating. He immediately began to regret how he had acted – would he now be in trouble?   
  
Fortunately, the Millennium Earl seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood and responded with mild joviality. “I did – Moonflower, why don’t you go to bed for the evening? It’s not a conversation for your little ears.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as the Earl caught his gaze. Like a deer caught in a trap, he froze up a bit – he always did the Earl spoke to him directly.   
  
Quietly, Alma nodded. Alma was not so foolish as to stay any longer as the words were clearly an order – it didn’t matter how kindly the Earl spoke them. Alma knew better.  
  
As Alma stood, Tyki moved. “I’ll walk Flower Boy back-“  
  
Sheril’s eyes flashed. “I’m certain the Chang knows his own way back by now,” Sheril clipped icily.   
  
Tyki raised his hands in mock defense. “Forgive me for being courteous,” Tyki said, before his attention flickered over to Alma.  
  
Alma stilled, as another skip could be felt in his chest.  
  
Knowing he couldn’t very well linger, Alma forced himself to break eye contact and he excused himself from the dining room. As he left, he could hear the Noah begin to talk again, though the noise died as soon as Alma was into the hall, the double doors shutting behind him.  
  
Alma glanced back, his eyes resting on the doors for a moment longer. Exhaling, he turned away to start walking.  
  
On Alma’s belt, what appeared to be a black flower broke apart as the two teases fluttered beside him.   
  
Alma glanced over the teases. "I don’t really want to go back to my room yet,” Alma admitted. “Want to go to the greenhouse?”  
  
The teases merely flew onward in response as they started down the hall – just in the direction Alma would need to take to get to the greenhouse.  
  
Alma followed them, the path to the greenhouse being a fairly easy one. With Alma having been in the Underworld for over a month, he had finally started to learn some of the quicker routes through the castle. It was still vast, and there were a lot of areas that Alma had yet to see, but with the teases to help guide him it had become a less intimidating process.  
  
For this, Alma was grateful. He hadn’t liked it when he first arrived and hadn’t known how to get around.  
  
After a short while of walking, Alma eventually came to the greenhouse. He pushed the silvery glass doors aside so he could go in, the teased fluttering beside him.  
  
The warmth of the greenhouse immediately brushed against Alma’s skin, warming Alma to his bones. In many ways, it almost reminded him of when he used to go outside and into the warmth of the sun; the greenhouse was just so bright and luminous, with its citrine lanterns and ethereal glow. It was comforting – familiar.  
  
It made Alma miss home.  
  
Quietly, Alma walked over to some orchids. They were a deep, pinkish-purple, and from them a sweet scent poured outward.   
  
A small smile appeared on Alma’s face. He knelt down, taking a few moments to tend to the orchids; they were doing well, but required extra care. Orchids were such finicky flowers, and Alma had always been taught that they needed a gentle hand.  
  
Running his fingers along the stems, Alma eyed the orchids, looking for any signs of fault. Sure enough, one of them was beginning to look a bit wilted with the leaves and the stem dry. Moving his hand to that orchid, Alma rested his touch upon it, allowing a soft glow to emit from his fingertips.  
  
The orchid perked up, brightening as it revived.  
  
Standing up, Alma began to move on to the other flowers in the greenhouse. Roses, daffodils, honeysuckle, tulips – Alma had started to care for them regularly, taking his days in the Underworld to tend to the greenhouse. He wasn’t sure as to who was doing it before. Possibly servants, but Alma hadn’t really seen many of them around. Once or twice he had caught silhouettes and figures moving about the hall, but Lala was the only servant who ever really interacted with Alma.  
  
The only other person who Alma spoke with regularly was of course Tyki.  
  
There was another flutter in Alma’s chest, as he thought about the Noah. It was baffling, really; ever since they had first been intimate together they had begun to spend more time together. Small outings outside, ventures through the castle – Tyki would show Alma more here and there, with their interactions becoming more consistent. Natural.  
  
Often, Alma found himself looking forward to them. And it made him feel guilty.  
  
_‘Your family. What would your family think?’_ a voice seemed to ask Alma quietly. _‘What would they think if they saw you?’_  
  
The thought alone made Alma cringe, as his insides knotted. Alma knew his family would be displeased by the thought of Alma spending so much time with a Noah, but what was Alma supposed to do?  
  
_‘Tyki’s not even like the other Noah,’_ Alma thought as he checked on some golden daffodils, sitting on a bench beside them. A few of them were beginning to look a bit dull, so Alma revitalized them a bit. _‘And they wouldn’t want me to be alone…’_  
  
Alma tried to tell himself these things, but it was in vain. The guilt remained as a sharp stab of longing pierced Alma. _‘I wish I could talk to them…’_  
  
As Alma’s mood shifted, some of the daffodils began to droop, with some of the petals dulling.  
  
A tease came over to Alma, landing on his shoulder. It caused him to look up, before his attention quickly returning to the daffodils. An apologetic look flashing in his eyes, Alma swiftly restored them.  
  
Glancing over to the tease, Alma spoke as he returned his attention to the flowers. “Fou used to always warn me about that…making the flowers wilt if I get too down,” he said, before a small, somewhat lonely smile appeared on his face. “I guess I haven’t gotten much better, have I?”  
  
The tease didn’t respond as it remained still on Alma’s shoulder.  
  
Without needing to be prompted, Alma spoke again. “What do you think the Noah are talking about?” Alma asked, as he got up to tend to some roses next. “The Millennium Earl always wants to talk to them all after dinner, but I’m never allowed to stay. Tyki never has said anything about it either – do you think he would if I asked? I asked Lala once, and she wasn’t sure…”  
  
The tease’s wings shifted a bit, before it flew off as it landed on one of the red roses.  
  
Alma exhaled. “I’m sorry - I still don’t always understand what you’re saying,” he admitted. “But I think I’ll ask Tyki. Maybe he’ll tell me.”  
  
“Ask me what?”  
  
Alma jumped, startled all the smooth, velvety voice melted into his ears. He whirled around just as he came face to face with Tyki, who had somehow managed to creep up on Alma without having made a sound.  
  
“I’ve told you _not _to do that!” Alma chided, though his words were more a childish plea. “It’s not kind to sneak up on people!”  
  
Tyki chuckled, thoroughly amused. “Too bad I’m not a kind person,” he said, before a smirk stretched across his lips. “Besides, it was hard to interrupt – you’re so cute when you talk to flowers and butterflies.”  
  
Alma blushed as he quickly looked off to the side. “How long were you listening for?”  
  
“Not that long – just enough to hear you apologize about not understanding the tease,” Tyki said. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing they ever take personally.”  
  
Alma nodded, though the heat clung to his face stubbornly. “Tyki,” he began to say, as he looked up-  
  
Without warning, Tyki’s lips pressed against Alma’s, cutting him off. Alma could feel his breath leave him as he felt Tyki’s hand curl around his wrist, securing him tightly. A rush of excitement flared throughout Alma’s chest, his body instinctively pushing up against Tyki’s.   
  
Alma’s lips parted, allowing Tyki’s tongue to slide inward. The kiss was fervent and hungry; Alma could quickly feel himself giving in as his other hand clasped at Tyki’s shirt. Their hips pressed against one another, with Tyki taking his around hand around Alma’s waist. He pulled him so close that there was no space left between them.  
  
Finally, Alma broke, momentarily pulling back as he gasped for air. His lungs strained for oxygen as he lowered his head, his face pressing into Tyki’s shoulder.  
  
Tyki took a few breaths as well as he held Alma. “Sorry,” he apologized, voice low and a little breathless. “Been wanting to do that to you all day.”  
  
Alma’s heart skipped, and he shook his head. “No, no it’s okay,” he said, as the flattering words caused his insides to twist about excitedly. Alma then looked up, face already a bit flushed. “I just needed a little air – I don’t want you to stop.”  
  
Tyki looked at Alma. His golden eyes were so bright that they nearly glowed – almost as though they were forged of citrine and fire. A smile appeared on his face, gaze hungry.  
  
“Good,” Tyki said. “I don’t want to.”  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Tyki once more began to kiss him. Alma gave in almost immediately, as every fiber in his being yearned to be close to Tyki; somewhat desperately Alma’s hands clung to Tyki’s shoulders, gripping at the fabric of the long dress coat Tyki was still in from dinner.  
  
Tyki’s hands ran down Alma’s waist, his tongue entangling with Alma’s. Shifting his position, he pushed Alma back so that he was pressed against the fogged, glass wall of the greenhouse. As Tyki did this, he could feel his hips roll forward onto Alma, his length in his trousers pushing against the fabric.  
  
Alma sucked in a breath as Tyki’s lips moved to his neck. He could feel Tyki’s length already, which was only causing Alma himself to fall deeper into arousal. “Tyki,” Alma said, as a shudder threatened to wrack his body. “Tyki – maybe we shouldn’t do this here, or someone will see-“  
  
Tyki chuckled, as he moved so his lips were just against Alma’s ear. “No one will see,” he whispered. He traced his fingers along the side of Alma’s face. “Trust me – everyone else is preoccupied right now.”  
  
As Tyki said this, a wave of nervous excitement fluttered throughout Alma. While a part of him was anxious about being in the greenhouse in such a state, a part of him felt a strange _thrill_ – especially since Alma never thought he would have done something like this before.  
  
Then again, Alma never thought that any of this would have happened before.  
  
Tyki moved his hand, scooping it beneath Alma’s thigh. He pulled the limb upward, causing the silvery, slate-colored fabric of Alma’s chiton to rumple.   
  
Another shudder threatened to ripple throughout Alma, and he leaned his face forward so that his cheek brushed against Tyki’s, his lips close to Tyki’s ears. Without thinking, Alma’s tongue flicked against Tyki’s ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe.  
  
Unexpectedly, Tyki shivered. A low, throaty growl escaped him as he pushed Alma even more against the glass, the action somewhat rough and aggressive as his hand snaked beneath the skirt of Alma’s chiton. Teasingly, his fingers tugged at the band of Alma’s underwear.  
  
“Damn,” Tyki murmured, words breathy as he nestled his face into the crook of Alma’s neck.   
  
Alma took a breath, skin hot. He could feel his heart racing as Tyki’s lips pressed into the crook of his neck, causing Alma to roll his head back against the glass as his eyes closed.   
  
“Tyki…” Alma uttered, words quiet and breath shallow. His face turned, just so that his lips were pressing into Tyki’s thick, dark hair.   
  
Tyki shifted, his lips still grazing against Alma’s neck. Slowly, he dragged his teeth, biting softly and tugged at Alma’s flesh.  
  
Alma sucked in, as he could feel a pressure beginning to coil inside his belly, legs twitching in anticipation.  
  
Tyki lifted his face, before his lips stopped just beside Alma’s ear. His breath was hot, and his lips gingerly brushed against Alma’s lobe as he whispered gently. “You look really good pinned against a wall.”  
  
Alma’s face flushed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. Although it was one that in any other instance would have been considered lewd, there was something…sweetly _alluring _about the way Tyki said it. It again caused a rush of excitement to flare throughout Alma, thighs quivering as he could feel precum trickling out – just enough to dampen his underwear.  
  
Alma bit his lip, as he shimmied his hips slightly. He took his other hand, as he attempted to tug down the fabric of his underwear.  
  
Tyki chuckled, as he caught Alma’s hand. “That eager?”  
  
Alma’s face remained flushed, eyes hazy as he looked away. “I…”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Tyki said. “I won’t stop you.”  
  
Not wanting to delay, Alma tugged again at his underwear, pulling them down before Tyki could tease him anymore. To his relief, Tyki helped him shimmy them down before they were discarded to the floor. His cock readily sprang up, offering Alma some momentary relief – but a hunger soon overtook him as the heat continued to burn in his veins.  
  
Without thinking, Alma rolled his hips forward, the fabric bunched up and pressing against his groin as he bent his leg a bit, pushing himself onto Tyki. From beneath Tyki’s trousers, he could once more feel the hardness of Tyki’s cock with only fabric to separate them.  
  
“Easy,” Tyki urged, golden eyes smoldering. “Still have my clothes on, you know.”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to speak but stopped somewhat abruptly. Already, Tyki was moving – though he wasn’t unfastening his trousers. Instead, he knelt down, keeping the hem of Alma’s chiton pushed up with his hand, while his other hand firmly clasped at Alma’s thigh.  
  
Then, Tyki opened his mouth as he slid his tongue beneath the base of Alma’s shaft.  
  
Alma inhaled sharply, eyes wide. Only on lick and Alma’s legs shuddered, causing him to feel shaky and off-kilter. Still against the glass, Alma’s hands moved about in a desperate attempt to grab something – but the glass was smooth, and held little friction.  
  
From up above, several plant tendrils snaked down the glass, allowing for Alma to grasp at them for support.  
  
Again, Tyki’s tongue ran over Alma’s cock. One flick, two – he was teasing at first, savoring every tremor in Alma’s body. But soon, even Tyki’s patience began to wear, before he finally brought his lips over the head of Alma’s penis, mouth encompassing the length as he pushed forward. His head bobbed up and down, his tongue slithering over Alma’s cock like a hungry serpent as he suckled it.  
  
Alma bit his lip. A whine pushed from the back of his throat, the warmth and wetness of Tyki’s mouth too stimulating for words. A series of uncontrollable tremors were beginning to wrack Alma’s hips, his pelvis jutting forward as his body yearned for more.  
  
“T-Tyki…” Alma tried to manage, his breaths labored and erratic.   
  
Tyki didn’t stop, as he continued to suck Alma down. He had started slowly at first, though now he was beginning to speed up, his teeth occasionally brushing against the shaft.   
  
Alma clamped his eyes shut, as his body quivered.“T-_Tyki_…I…I’m going to-_oh_!“  
  
Alma didn’t get a chance to finish, before he broke. Gasping, he came into Tyki’s mouth, hot seed spilling out as his whole body quivered, thighs trembling as he clung to the vines for support.  
  
Tyki didn’t break away. He held his hands onto Alma’s hips firmly, keeping his lips sealed tightly around Alma’s shaft until he finished his release. He choked down the contents, finally pulling away to swallow as Alma finished, several droplets of cum trickling down the side of his mouth.  
  
Tyki wiped his mouth as he stood back up, looking back at Alma. Red-faced and hazy-eyed, Alma looked in a complete daze, breaths heavy and legs weak. Needless to say, the sight was _enticing_ – especially what with how Alma had several vines he was holding to for support, just as he still remained pressed against the glass wall.  
  
A deep, burning desire filled Tyki right then and there.  
  
Taking his hand, Tyki cupped the side of Alma’s face, just so he could stare into Alma’s brilliantly blue eyes. “Do you have enough energy left for me to have some fun?” Tyki asked, voice low and sultry.   
  
Alma blinked. He almost appeared a bit disoriented, but released his hold on one of the vines – just as he placed his hand over Tyki.  
  
Gently, Alma squeezed at Tyki’s hand. “Yeah…yeah, I think so…” he said, voice soft. “I…I want you inside me again. Like the first time…”  
  
As Alma said this, something in Tyki’s chest hitched. Tyki eyed Alma for a second, before he leaned forward. Gingerly, he placed a kiss on Alma’s lips; he then pulled away, as he brought his mouth to Alma’s ear. “Let me know if it gets too rough for you,” he whispered. “I didn’t bring anything with me to soothe it.”  
  
Alma swallowed, as he nodded his head.  
  
Tyki shifted after this, his hands moving to the front of his trousers. There was a bulge from beneath the fabric, though Tyki was quick to unfasten the front. He then tugged the fabric of his trousers as well as his undergarments down, just enough so that his erection was released, girth thick and veins protruding.   
  
Glancing down, Alma caught sight of Tyki’s erection, discharge leaking out as it glistened in the light. He immediately felt a pang in his abdomen, despite his own cock having grown lax.  
  
Again, Tyki brought his grasp to beneath Alma’s thigh as he hoisted his leg upward, keeping Alma’s back pressed against the glass for additional support. Tyki’s hand then ran along Alma’s thigh as he pushed the fabric of his chiton out of the way.  
  
Tyki then paused, before he brought his hand to his mouth. Taking two fingers, he sucked them, coating them with saliva before he plopped them out.  
  
Alma watched, gaze still clouded and wanton.   
  
Carefully, Tyki snaked his hand down beneath Alma – just where he was able to reach Alma’s back entrance. He ran his saliva-coated finger around the rim of skin, before he slowly poked around the rim of puckered tissue.  
  
Tyki didn’t move quickly, as he brought his face close to Alma’s. His lips traced along Alma’s jaw, just before he dragged his teeth back to Alma’s mouth. He bit down, tugging at Alma’s lip as he pulled slowly.  
  
A small, throaty groan spilled from Alma as he shut his eyes. His neck arched as his head rolled back, with Tyki’s finger still playing around his hole – just before Alma could feel a finger slipping in slowly.  
  
Again, Alma sucked in a breath. _‘One…’  
  
_Tyki paused, as he listened Alma’s reaction. Once Alma appeared to be adjusting, he pushed his finger in farther as he began to pump gradually.  
  
Alma clung to the vines, eyes shutting tightly as they curled around his wrists. His breaths began to deepen, as Tyki slowly began to stretch him out – first with one finger, then with two.  
  
In Alma’s groin, there was another twitch – and he realized that his lax cock was beginning to stiffen again.  
  
A bit longer passed, with Tyki having to move slowly. But soon Tyki pulled his fingers out, having scissored Alma open enough. He then brought his hand back up to his mouth, before he flicked his tongue over the palm – a lewd way to acquire what was only a miniscule amount of lubrication, but one that would have to do.  
  
Taking his hand, Tyki ran it along the shaft of his cock, a weighty breath escaping him as he touched himself. He shifted his body after that, positioning himself so that the tip of his head was beneath Alma’s entrance – just before he began to push in.  
  
A small cross between a whimper and a cry spilled from Alma, his face twisting into a grimace. With only saliva and precum, there was substantially more friction this time than there had been the last time they had done this – enough that caused Alma’s eyes to burn with unshed tears. He gasped, breaths uneven as he tried to adjust to the sensation of Tyki being inside him, but Alma struggled, the burning being especially prominent.  
  
Turning back to Alma, Tyki’s expression shifted as he noticed the change in Alma’s face. Before doing anything else, he stopped as he took his other hand to support Alma’s thigh.   
  
Leaning forward, Tyki spoke lowly. “Too much?”  
  
Alma shut his eyes, and shook his head. He felt a bit lightheaded, but took another breath. “No – no, keep going,” Alma insisted. “_Please_ keep going.”  
  
Tyki paused. For a moment he almost looked uncertain, but nodded his head. “Alright, Flower Boy,” he spoke.  
  
Following that, Tyki pushed it again. He was still going slowly, giving Alma as much time as he needed – however, Alma’s breaths soon began to even out as they deepened, and Tyki could feel Alma’s muscles relax.  
  
Then, Tyki began to move a bit more quickly.  
  
Rocking his hips forward, Tyki pushed himself into Alma. As he did this, he leaned into Alma, kissing his neck as he dragged his tongue along Alma’s jugular.  
  
A thick, heavy breath escaped Alma as he rolled his head back. He was finally growing used to the sensation of Tyki being inside him once more, the pumps and thrusts gradually turning into more pleasure rather than pain. In his abdomen, Alma could even feel a pressure beginning to build again – one that sent a tremor throughout his whole being.  
  
In, out. Alma continued to breathe as he clasped at the vines, just as his other leg curled around Tyki’s hip, pushing himself onto Tyki even more. His cock now having hardened again, Alma rolled his hips forward, in a desperate attempt to alleviate the second wave of pressure that was building.  
  
Taking this as a sign to move forward, Tyki continued to thrust. His other hand moved as it quickly found its way to Alma’s cock, twitching and trembling. Running his hand along the shaft, Tyki _squeezed_, causing a sweet little moan to spill from Alma’s lips.  
  
Tyki could have listened to Alma for forever.  
  
Their hips rocked together, Tyki’s hand pumping Alma as the blood pounded in their ears. The pace was increasing, as well, with each thrust becoming a little harder, and little rougher-  
  
Alma broke again, a half-cry spilling out as he climaxed. The pressure in him just _snapped_ as he released. It was less than the first time, but cum spilled outward, onto his abdomen and the fabric of his chiton.  
  
Tyki held Alma tightly, as he could feel Alma’s whole body quivering in his grasp, with Alma whimpering and gasping for air. As always, Alma’s voice was _mesmerizing_, with every breath that escaped Alma a melodious note in Tyki’s ear. Alone, it was nearly enough to send Tyki over the edge – _was_ enough to send Tyki over the edge.  
  
Forcefully, Tyki pushed his hips forward a few more times, before he finally reached a breaking point. A thick gasp escaping him, Tyki grunted, as he too followed Alma in climaxing, release spilling into Alma as it filled his backside.  
  
Tyki took a breath, skin hot as sweat collected on his body. He could feel Alma’s body already beginning to feel limp, weak and weary. Both of them then slumped down, with Alma’s back still against the glass wall of the greenhouse as he released his grip on the vines.   
  
Carefully, Tyki pulled out of Alma, allowing for Alma to sit back against the glass properly. Alma watched with a hazy gaze as Tyki took off his dress coat, revealing his dark gray, silken shirt.   
  
Sitting back against the glass wall, Tyki re-adjusted his trousers, pulling them up before he draped his coat over the front of Alma and himself.   
  
Alma leaned against Tyki, his head resting on the Noah’s shoulder as his hand remained on his chest. A heavy weariness suddenly befell him, so much that Alma was not even bothered by the filth that coated his abdomen and some parts of his chiton. Instead, Alma could only rest against Tyki, his eyelids heavy as exhaustion spilled throughout him.  
  
Tyki kept an arm wrapped around Alma’s shoulders. Without even having to look, he could feel Alma’s head begin to nod off, his head beginning to fall a bit forward.  
  
Lips quirking upward, Tyki spoke. “Am I going to have to carry you back to your room again?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked up. “Hm?” he hummed, somewhat tiredly. But he soon registered what Tyki had said, and he shook his head. “No…no, I just need a minute.”  
  
Tyki chucked softly. “Whatever you say, Flower Boy.”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, as he leaned his head back against Tyki’s shoulder. Again, Alma could feel a sense of peace wash over him, his whole body at ease as he rested against Tyki. Faintly, Alma could smell what he thought was cedar, and something smoky – the residual scent of cigarettes, he realized. Tyki always like to smoke those.  
  
Somehow, the scent soothed Alma.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The bed was comfortable. It was especially so, after the rendezvous that Alma had just had in the greenhouse with Tyki. After resting in the greenhouse, Tyki had finally urged Alma to get up, with Alma having almost dozed off. Admittedly, Alma was grateful; as lovely as the greenhouse was, it wasn’t especially comfortable for slumber. And Alma had needed to clean the filth off of his body.  
  
Now, Alma was clean, changed into a nightshirt and lying on his side beside Tyki in his bedroom.  
  
Gingerly, Alma traced his fingers along the front of Tyki’s silken shirt. As he did this, a wistful longing filled his chest, as he spoke softly. “Stay with me tonight.”  
  
Tyki blinked, as he looked over at Alma, several strands of dark hair falling from his ponytail. “Like until you fall asleep?”  
  
Alma shook his head, as he sat a bit more upright. As he did, he could feel a slight tenderness in his backside – the result of their amorous activities. Alma would need to be careful with how he moved.  
  
“No – I mean actually stay the night,” Alma clarified. “You _never_ do – can’t you stay tonight?”  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. “What? I’ve stayed before.”  
  
“Not the _whole_ night,” Alma pointed out. Tenderly, he still fingered the fabric of Tyki’s shirt as he looked downward. “You’re always gone when I wake up…”  
  
“What can I say? Family calls, and sometimes even I can’t get out of that.”  
  
As Tyki said this, Alma suddenly recalled his previous question. Helooked at Tyki curiously. “Is it because of what the Earl always says to you and the other Noah after dinner?”  
  
“Is that what you wanted to ask me about?” Tyki questioned. He smirked down at Alma. “Afraid it has a rather dull answer. Lord Millennium just has certain tasks for us to do. Kind of like chores – not very exciting stuff, but sometimes I get pulled away for it.”  
  
Alma frowned. He wasn’t exactly satisfied with the answer, nor was he too happy with how Tyki seemed to be brushing him off. Especially after how intimate they had just been earlier.  
  
Turning his body, Alma looked off to the side. “I just want to wake up next to you…” he murmured.  
  
Tyki paused. He turned to look over at Alma, though Alma was still looking away. Tyki could just make out what appeared to be a disappointed pout on the younger deity’s face though, causing him to look even more boyish than normal.  
  
Inside, Tyki felt something in his chest tighten.  
  
Tyki exhaled in defeat, as he rolled over to reach a hand over Alma. “Alright, alright,” he said. “If it means that much to you, I can _try_ to stay the whole night.”  
  
Alma turned back to Tyki, a glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes. However, Alma attempted to restrain himself as he made an effort not to sound too overly excited. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” Tyki said, before he grinned over at Alma, taking his chin with his fingers. “I could use a break. And I wouldn’t mind spending it with you.”  
  
Alma’s heart skipped, his earlier displeasure swiftly dissipating. Instead, a sweet, lovely smile graced his face, his eyes brightening.  
  
Tyki stared at Alma, somewhat transfixed. “You don’t always smile like that,” Tyki observed, expression strangely neutral.   
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at Tyki in confusion. He pulled back a bit from Tyki’s grasp. “What do you mean?” he asked, not quite understanding.   
  
Tyki looked at Alma a bit longer, eyes observant. “Normally when you smile here, it’s just a polite one,” Tyki noted. “It’s not usually a very happy smile.”  
  
As Tyki said this, Alma felt something in his chest lurch. Looking away, the brightness in his eyes dimmed as his heart tightened painfully. “Oh.”  
  
Tyki frowned. The shift in Alma had been blatant, so much that Tyki found himself regretting having said anything. But Tyki wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see the truth – of course Alma was unhappy.  
  
Languidly, Tyki leaned on his elbow. “You don’t have to lie,” Tyki pointed out, words oddly calm. “It’s no secret you’re not happy here.”  
  
Alma whipped his head back, and he shook his head. “It’s…it’s not that,” Alma said, causing to Tyki’s eyes to turn dubious.  
  
Alma shifted, as he averted his gaze a bit uneasily. “I mean…I just miss my family,” he admitted quietly, a slight tremor reaching his words. “I really miss them, and I know they’re probably worried. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them. I miss Fou, and I miss being outside, and the _sun_-“  
  
Unexpectedly, Alma felt his voice crack. He hadn’t even realized it was coming until it was too late, his vocal cords trembling pathetically. Quickly, Alma took a breath, though it offered little aid as his vision was already beginning to blur.   
  
“I…I’m sorry,” Alma apologized, before another crack could be heard in his voice. “I just really miss my _home_…”  
  
As soon as the final word was out, Alma broke, as a shallow sob escaped him. He hadn’t realized he would break like this – not from such a small comment, and not when he had actually felt so good moments before. But the pain was there, embedded deep into his chest, with the homesickness just as prominent as it had been the first day Alma had been in the Underworld.  
  
Alma just missed his family. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, but he did.  
  
Tyki watched. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Alma cry, but for whatever reason, he felt frozen – almost as though he had no idea what to do. Before, Tyki wouldn’t have given it much thought. If someone was upset, they were upset – it wasn’t his problem. But now Alma was crying, and somehow…  
  
Somehow, Tyki felt it was his fault.  
  
Frown softening, Tyki sat up. Alma was against the pillows, still crying and looking as though he were trying to compose himself. However, he was clearly struggling, as the tears continued to flow and his shoulders trembled.  
  
Reaching over, Tyki pulled Alma close. The action was swift and gentle, as Tyki positioned Alma so that he was sitting with his back against Tyki’s chest.  
  
Wrapping his arms around Alma, Tyki held him. The touch was so tender that Alma’s tears momentarily stopped, a surprised look appearing in his eyes. Sniffling, Alma tried to speak. “Tyki…?”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, as he rested his face against Alma’s hair. Gingerly, Tyki continued to hold Alma.  
  
Blinking his eyes open, Tyki looked forward. As he did, he noticed the golden band on Alma’s left ankle.  
  
“What if I take it off?” Tyki asked quietly.  
  
Alma blinked, cheeks wet and eyes a little red. “What?”  
  
Tyki remained quiet for a second, before he spoke again. “Can’t exactly give you your family, or the sun,” he admitted. “But…I can give you outside.”  
  
Alma turned his face toward Tyki, somewhat shocked as the realization dawned on him. Then, he looked back at the anklet he had on – the very thing that kept him bound to the castle.   
  
“I…I don’t think your family would like that…” Alma said, as he looked down.  
  
Tyki shifted, as he ran a hand through Alma’s hair. Turning his face, he brushed his nose against Alma’s cheek. “Don’t worry about them,” Tyki reassured him. “You just have to promise me one thing.”  
  
Alma blinked as he looked back at Tyki, eyes curious. “What?”  
  
Tyki’s golden eyes met Alma’s. There was a strangely serious look in his eyes, one that Alma was not used to seeing – and it became even more prominent when Tyki spoke.   
  
“You have to give me your word that if I take the binding off, you will never go into the maze outside,” Tyki spoke, words low.  
  
Surprise filled Alma’s expression. He then glanced back a final time at the anklet-  
  
Tyki gripped Alma’s wrist, causing Alma to turn back abruptly. “_Promise_ me,” Tyki urged.  
  
Alma stared, his eyes fixating on Tyki’s. As he looked, he could see an intensity burning so deeply in Tyki’s gaze that it was nearly overwhelming – almost enough to make Alma look away.  
  
Alma couldn’t look away though. He could only nod his head, his own eyes entranced by Tyki’s stare. “I promise.”  
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze a bit longer, before he shifted, eyes flickering over to Alma’s ankle.  
  
Alma looked back as well. When he did, he could see the golden band illuminate – just before it dissolved, disappearing into thin air.  
  
Alma stared, completely stunned. He turned back to Tyki, eyes wide and filled with disbelief. “I…I can go outside on my own now?”  
  
Tyki grinned. “As long as you keep your promise,” he said. “Outside is yours.”  
  
As soon as Tyki verified this, Alma could feel a lightness overtake his heart – something that he couldn’t remember ever having felt in a long time. Miraculously, the sadness that had been in his expression appeared to dim; a joyous light appeared in Alma’s eyes, his smile bright.  
  
For the first time in weeks, Alma felt happy.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was cold in the mortal realm. Colder than it should have been.  
  
Even Fou couldn’t ignore it. Her body was not as easily impacted by temperatures, but that didn’t mean couldn’t feel discomfort in the air: the lack of balance, the disharmony. The air in the earth would shift in the mortal realm, signaling to humans when it was time to reap, when it was time to sow. It would shift subtly, just enough that things would continue in balance, with the cycle turning as it should.  
  
But, it was too cold. It was far too cold, and the air was brittle.  
  
Fou’s eyes looked onward. She had crossed into the mortal realm, standing just on the edge of the barrier that separated her masters’ home from the outside world. Fields stretched out, the grass no longer a vibrant emerald, but a pale, yellowing color as the blades faded in hue. The soil was hard, and the sky hazed with gray.  
  
Not right. It wasn’t right.  
  
Fou ignored the bit of cold as it nipped at her flesh, her body unflinching and as still as stone. _‘It’s so cold…’_  
  
Exhaling, Fou turned. Green light sparked around her, just as she disappeared.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Edgar didn’t know what to do anymore.  
  
It wasn’t right. The whole situation was wrong in every way: the Order, the akuma, _Alma_. Edgar didn’t even know where to begin with it all. Over a month, and it wasn’t any easier to process. Over a month, and it wasn’t any easier to deal with.  
  
It felt like his son had just been taken away the day before.  
  
The estate felt empty. The halls, the rooms – even with the presence of the nymphs, the air was heavy, as though someone had passed away. In many ways, it did feel like that: as though a horrid, irreversible absence was looming in the air. Cold. Stifling. _Heavy_. A miasma of loss and heartache.  
  
For Edgar, it was becoming too much to bear.   
  
Taking a breath, Edgar turned to Twi. As expected, she was preoccupied, looking through texts and ruins in the underground chamber beneath their estate. The globe in the center of the room offered some illumination, but the light was dim, and pale – not the usual, vibrant glow that normally overtook it.  
  
“Twi,” Edgar said, as he approached her. “Twi, this is starting to get out of hand. The fields are drying up too quickly.”  
  
Twi frowned, as she looked up. Her eyes were worn and tired, causing her to look as though she had hardly slept in days. Around her face, several strands of dark hair fell, with her updo loose and less put together than normal.  
  
Exhaling, Tyki closed the text she had been looking through – an old book of ancient spells and ruins. “Good,” she said, words cold. “Maybe that will get the Order’s attention.”  
  
Edgar’s expression turned severe, as his brow furrowed. “We’re pushing it,” he said. “The mortals were mid-harvest, so they won’t have everything to last them at this rate. We can’t neglect them for long.”  
  
Twi whipped her head back in Edgar’s direction. Her expression was hard, but her eyes were pained – torn, and divided.   
  
Swiftly, Twi broke eye contact. “We don’t have any other choice. The Order won’t help unless…”  
  
Twi trailed off. It was more difficult to say the words than not, with the very weight of them going against a part of her nature – of her nature that aligned with the Order. Because Twi was responsible. She had a charge. She had a purpose.  
  
Now, she was discarding it.  
  
“They won’t help unless they have a reason to,” Twi said, words quiet. “So, we’ll give them a reason to.”   
  
To this, Edgar didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.  
  
He could only hope that it wasn’t another mistake they were about to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21 at last! (And with some more smut - I have to get it in while I can, and having a rendezvous in the greenhouse seemed like the perfect thing to include in this chapter. ;3)
> 
> This was a lengthier chapter (over 9K), and I wanted to use it to touch on a few things. One being what was going on at the Acropolis - things haven’t exactly gone well, and there are a lot of rising tensions between Alma’s family and the Order. Twi and Edgar are in turmoil and drowning in their own grief over Alma’s abduction, and Bak and Zuu are in a way trying to do damage control. And Bak especially is really important right now. He’s slowly catching on to that there may be something else going on, and as a result he’s finally starting to do more about it (hence, working with Allen). So something will be coming of that soon.
> 
> With things in the Underworld, I wanted to focus on Alma and Tyki’s relationship and how close they seem to have gotten already. It’s been a week and a half or so since the last chapter, so they’re still in that early honeymoon phase. Alma is especially smitten, though he’s conflicted to be feeling any sort of contentment when he’s separated from his family. It’s very agonizing, especially since he does still miss them. 
> 
> Tyki sees this - he’s always seen it, though it’s only now he’s actually beginning to feel any genuine remorse over the situation. Previously, he’s brushed it off or taken it as Alma being sensitive. But now, that’s starting to change - even to where Tyki was willing to take the anklet binding off of Alma. Which...his family likely won’t be pleased by. >.> 
> 
> As a head’s up, chapters 22 and 23 are going to start picking up. That plot that’s been building is going to come to light soon, and there’s also that Erebus event which is on the horizon. ;3333
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Comments are appreciated as always!


	22. A Promise Broken

The air was dark and stifling to breathe. Cold, thick – when inhaled it felt as though one may clog their lungs, clouding their insides with the stench of death and mourning. It didn’t matter if loss was merely a transition – it didn’t matter if death was something to be expected. The air was cold, and it was terribly hard to breathe. Heavy. Leaden.  
  
It always felt that way to Allen.  
  
He was never quite sure as to what it was. Perhaps it was the fact that the sun’s rays never reached too far into the earth, leaving the Underworld to be nothing but an abyss of inky caverns and eternal darkness. Or Perhaps it was the uncanny _silence_ that echoed throughout the Underworld – one that was only occasionally broken by the quivering wail of some foul creature, or a shrill cry of something forsaken.  
  
It was an unsettling place to say in the least.  
  
Allen focused as he tried not to let the Underworld consume him. He always had to take extra care when trekking into its depths, keeping his head clear and his eyes alert. For anyone, the Underworld could be a perilous realm to navigate. It wasn’t kind to outsiders, and only those who were forged of darkness and caressed by dark matter could thrive in its depths.  
  
Because of this, Allen was one of the few who could find his way. As long as he kept walking. And as long as he ignored the _pull_ that he felt deep inside.  
  
In his left arm, Allen could feel something pull then. A nudge, a tug – the dark matter that corrupted his very flesh gravitated toward the Underworld. Beckoning him to stay, and to let the darkness consume him. A virus. A disease. Having been infected by dark matter, it was only a matter of time before Allen gave in – the Order had always been clear that such was his fate.  
  
It didn’t matter if the new gods wielded innocence. It didn’t matter if they acquired their power from a source opposite of what the Noah used. Apparently, even innocence had its limits.  
  
Allen looked ahead as he stopped walking. He had just arrived at the Noah’s home, the castle dark and foreboding. Not a speck of life seemed to emit from it, with even the nocturnal garden out front harboring hardly any pinch of life. It was so quiet and so _still_ – it didn’t matter how many times Allen found himself there, at the castle. It was always disturbing in some way.  
  
It was disturbing to think that all this time _Alma_ had been trapped in there too.  
  
Allen frowned. He had only met Alma one time and could not say he knew Alma well. However, when he thought of how Alma had been with that bright look in his eyes and amiable nature…no, the Underworld didn’t seem like a suitable place for Alma at all.  
  
Allen could understand why the rest of Alma’s family was so distraught.  
  
Approaching the front doors, Allen stopped just before it. His eyes naturally gravitated to the old, archaic symbols on the front door – a language that he never should have understood, yet somehow recognized.  
  
Ignoring the pull, Allen knocked.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The bedsheets were soft and silky against Tyki’s skin. That was one of the first things he noticed upon waking up. But the second thing he noticed was what truly stood out: a weight that was gently pressed against his body as someone remained nestled into his side.  
  
Tyki’s eyes opened, his vision blurring into focus. Because he was lying on his back, the top of the canopy was the first thing he saw: richly colored burgundy and velvet. Somewhat blankly, Tyki stared for a moment as his consciousness slowly returned to him.  
  
There was a slight shift beside him, causing Tyki’s face to turn. When he did, he could see who it was beside him.  
  
Alma was still asleep, curled up as his head remained against Tyki’s shoulder. He was on his side, with his body facing Tyki’s as one hand remained on Tyki’s bare chest.   
  
Tyki stared, his golden eyes never once straying from Alma. As he did this, Tyki couldn’t help but notice how _peaceful_ Alma looked in that moment; there was not a trace of unease or sadness that Tyki could detect on his slumbering face, with his hair ruffled from sleep and his body lax. Alma just looked…sweet. Really sweet, actually.  
  
Tyki didn’t move. He almost didn’t want to – because he knew that if he did, Alma would move as well, with the disruption possibly even waking him. And for whatever reason, Tyki didn’t want to do that. Not yet at least.  
  
One moment passed. Then another. The bedroom was silent save for the soft, gentle breaths that escaped their lips.  
  
Eventually, Tyki couldn’t hold back, and he moved his arm. Very carefully, he reached over, just so that his fingertips brushed against Alma’s bangs.  
  
Tyki paused, as his fingers lingered against Alma’s skin. As he did this, his eyes flickered to the scar across the bridge of Alma’s nose, causing Tyki once more to wonder how Alma could have received such a mark.  
  
Tyki frowned. Alma had answered once before, saying that he got hurt as a child – though he couldn’t remember the incident himself. It was a bit unusual, though perhaps Tyki was overthinking it. Alma _was _rather accident prone. Even to the point of being fragile.  
  
Very fragile.  
  
Tyki’s fingers moved as the traced across the scar on Alma’s face, touch gentle and barely skittering across the flesh. He then allowed himself the pleasure of cupping the side of Alma’s face.  
  
Alma shifted a bit, causing Tyki to still. An unspoken curse lingered on his tongue.  
  
Blearily, Alma blinked his eyes open as he moved his own hand so that his rested over Tyki’s. There was a dazed, hazy look to Alma’s eyes – one that made Tyki wonder if Alma was in fact only half-awake. Alma looked up though, a bewildered expression on his face as his attention landed on Tyki.  
  
Slowly, a small, sweet smile appeared on Alma’s face.  
  
“You actually stayed the whole night,” Alma said, words sleepy yet warmed with fondness.  
  
Tyki wavered, for once not having a ready response. Between how Alma had spoken and how Alma had _looked_ at Tyki…  
  
Quickly, Tyki found his ability to speak. “Sure I did,” Tyki said, the smooth confidence returning his voice as though nothing had changed. “I said I would, didn’t I?”  
  
Alma’s smile remained, and his fingers curled into Tyki’s. “I know,” he said. “I’m just happy you did.”  
  
Tyki felt his lips quirk upward, as he gripped Alma’s hand. He tugged gently. “Yeah? Maybe I should do it more then,” he said, before he tugged harder, this time pulling Alma onto him.  
  
Still too tired to do anything other than comply, Alma soon found himself pulled onto Tyki, the sheets twisting around their bodies and entangled limbs. In doing this Alma could feel his nightshirt rise, the flesh of his abdomen pressing against Tyki’s bare torso.  
  
A small, scalding _spark_ flared throughout Alma, causing him to wake up a little more. Unable to stop himself, a small giggle spilled from his lips, and a flirtatious energy bubbled inside him.  
  
Tyki’s lips remained upturned. An amused glint lingered in his eyes. “What’s so funny?” he asked, words holding a hint of playfulness.   
  
Alma quieted, though his cheeks were still a faint, rosy pink. “Nothing,” he said, though his expression betrayed him. His eyes were bright with mirth and his smile remained in place – almost as though he were biting back another giggle.  
  
Tyki eyed Alma. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said with a grin. “And you know I really can’t stand liars…”  
  
“I’m not lying!” Alma argued, though the words were more of a playful banter than anything defensive.   
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow as he eyed Alma a moment longer.  
  
Without warning, Tyki grabbed Alma by the arms. Alma’s eyes widened at the contact but didn’t get a chance to even speak; before he could fathom what was happening, Alma was abruptly flipped onto his back, pinned down as Tyki shifted positions with him.  
  
Alma stared up, still stunned by the abrupt change. His eyes remained wide-open, like sky blue saucers, and he could feel his heartbeat quicken as Tyki loomed over him.  
  
Pinning Alma down, Tyki smirked. “Like I said,” he spoke, voice low and warning. “I _really_ can’t stand liars…”  
  
Alma shivered. A part of him knew that Tyki was teasing him – that Tyki was likely making a game out of this. The realization resonated with Alma deeply, and turned his blood hot – so much, that the heat was beginning to feel stifling. Especially with Tyki’s body so _close._  
  
Lowering his face, Tyki brought his lips close to Alma’s ear – just barely enough so that his lips were brushing against it. “Maybe I should punish you,” he whispered, words deep and guttural.  
  
Another shiver, and Alma again felt his pulse speed up. He could feel Tyki’s breath on his ear, warm and strangely alluring.  
  
Alma took a small breath and turned. As he did, he came face-to-face with Tyki, their noses just brushing against one another.  
  
Tyki held Alma’s gaze for but a moment before he pressed his lips onto Alma’s.  
  
A sigh escaped Alma, as his eyes closed. The kiss was deep, but slow; it was not rushed, with Tyki taking his time as he slid his tongue into Alma’s mouth. His hands still clung to Alma’s wrists as he pinned him against the bed, hips rolling forward as they pushed against Alma.  
  
Softly, Alma moaned. He could feel his knee bend, leg rising as it pressed against Tyki’s hip.  
  
Tyki broke the kiss, pulling from Alma’s lips. However, he soon moved down Alma’s neck, dragging his tongue even lower as he began to untie the front of Alma’s nightshirt-  
  
There was a knock at the door, causing Tyki to stop. He didn’t say anything though, as he immediately noticed Alma’s expression – one that was tinged with alarm, and even a little embarrassment.   
  
Bringing a finger to his lip, Tyki smirked. “Just be quiet,” he whispered.  
  
Alma shifted. He looked a bit uncomfortable at the suggestion. “Are you sure?” Alma whispered back. “Maybe it’s Lala…”  
  
“Just ignore them,” Tyki urged. “They’ll go away soon enough-“  
  
There was another knock, cutting him off.  
  
Tyki exhaled. He looked back at Alma and smirked. “Guess I’ll have to get that.”  
  
Alma blinked. He propped himself onto his elbows. “Wait-“  
  
Alma was too slow. Already Tyki had gotten out of bed, still shirtless and only in his trousers. He walked over to the door, and leaned forward as he phased through, his upper body sticking through and allowing him to see who was on the other side.  
  
To Tyki’s surprise, it wasn’t Lala – but it was Road.  
  
Somewhat surprised, Tyki’s brow raised. “What are you doing here?” he asked, somewhat cautiously.  
  
Road smiled. There was an impish glint in her eyes as always – the kind that seemed to burn whenever she knew some sort of secret.   
  
“Looking for you,” Road said, words sweet. “You weren’t in your room and weren’t in the lounge – Wisely suggested I’d find you here.”  
  
A small frown remained on Tyki’s face. He wasn’t sure why Road was looking for him, and while he couldn’t say that he was _surprised_ that Road would dare to come to Alma’s room, he found himself a bit annoyed.   
  
“Yeah?” Tyki questioned. “And why was it you were looking for me?”  
  
Road paused as she hummed gently. “Mmm. We have a visitor today,” she said, keeping her voice soft enough so that only Tyki could hear. A grin stretched across her face, before she giggled. “Come with me to say hi.”  
  
Tyki blinked as realization dawned on him. Still frowning, he exhaled. “Was it really necessary to interrupt me?”  
  
“Yes,” Road said, without missing a beat. “So, come on – unless you want me to explain to the others what your _new _priority is. I can’t imagine Sheril will be happy when he hears.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything else as he exhaled. There was a tinge of aggravation in his chest, but he ignored it. “Fine – just give me a minute.”  
  
Road grinned, as she took a step back. “I’ll be waiting.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything more and phased back through the door.  
  
With Tyki having fully returned, Alma looked over. He was sitting up at this point, a confused look in his eyes. “Who was it?”  
  
Walking over to Alma, Tyki grinned. “No one you need to worry about,” he said, before he leaned over to take Alma’s chin. “Afraid I have to leave you for now though.”  
  
Alma stilled as soon as Tyki’s fingers were upon his skin. Face tilted upward, his eyes immediately locked with Tyki’s. As always, Alma found that he had an odd inability to move when in the clutches of Tyki’s gaze – they were so hypnotically _mesmerizing_, and Alma just could never look away as easily.  
  
But then, the words sank in, and Alma could feel his heart slowly plummet.   
  
“Where do you have to go?” Alma asked, before he could stop himself.  
  
Tyki fingers remained on Alma’s chin, as his thumb rubbed against Alma’s jaw in a small, circular motion. “Not far,” he said. “But I’ll be back later.”  
  
As Tyki said this, Alma felt a twinge of disappointment in his chest. It was a childish reaction, he knew – Alma couldn’t actually have expected Tyki to spend every waking moment with him. Not when he had other responsibilities. Other priorities.  
  
Things that Alma had no understanding or knowledge of.  
  
Noticing Alma’s expression, Tyki grinned. “Don’t be _too_ disappointed,” Tyki said, before he leaned closer, just so that he could lower his voice to a whisper. “Maybe today you can enjoy some of your newfound freedom.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma’s ears perked up and his heart skipped. He had almost forgotten about the anklet that Tyki had removed.  
  
Looking at Tyki, Alma smiled. “Yeah.”  
  
Pulling back, Tyki stood. He grabbed his shirt off the end of the bed, which had been sloppily discarded the night prior. “Stay out of trouble,” Tyki warned, words oddly teasing.  
  
Alma opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get a chance to. Already, Tyki had phased through the door, disappearing from sight.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Allen didn’t know how long he had been waiting for, but he was beginning to feel on edge.  
  
A servant had answered the door: a ghostly person, shrouded with a black veil over their face and wearing what looked to be a servant’s uniform. Allen couldn’t say if the servant was one who he had interacted with before though. While the Noah’s castle was filled with servants, it was so vast that it caused their presence to appear scarce, almost as though they were merely apparitions. Lost souls.  
  
Then again, that likely was the case.  
  
Allen looked around. He had been brought into the main entrance, with having been given the instructions to remain there for the time being. Admittedly, Allen wasn’t too happy with the order; the Underworld had already put him on edge, and being told to wait…  
  
Allen didn’t like it.   
  
Along his belt, several sacks of coins hung. They weighed down against Allen’s hip heavily, with one coin in particular bearing a significant weight.   
  
_‘If I can just find him…’_ Allen thought, as his silvery eyes skimmed the area.  
  
“Allen!”  
  
Just as Allen turned, a body collided into his. He staggered back, somewhat stunned by the contact; however, Allen soon recognized the petite body that had so strongly latched onto him, the sensation one he was already all too familiar with.  
  
Feeling a slight twitch in his shoulder, Allen remained stiff as the girl clung to him. “Road, please get off of me,” Allen requested, words dropping several degrees.  
  
Road didn’t oblige, as she clung to Allen’s shoulders. “Aw, but I missed you,” Road said, as she batted her eyes at him. “It’s been a while since I got to see you – you hardly ever come to visit!”  
  
“It’s because he’s a dog for the Order,” Tyki said as he approached the Allen and Road. As soon as he was near them, he grinned over at Allen. “But speaking of, to what do we owe this pleasure?”  
  
Allen’s eyes flashed to Tyki’s, silver clashing with gold as ice may clash with fire.  
  
“I was sent on behalf of the Order,” Allen stated. “Specifically, Bak Chang.”  
  
A hint of intrigue appeared in Tyki’s eyes as he recognized the name. “Oh?”  
  
Road released her grip on Allen, though she still remained close. Boldly, she clung to his arm. “Aren’t you going to tell us?” Road pushed.   
  
A frown tugging at Allen’s lips, he moved his body in an attempt to pull away from Road. Once he did that, he answered. “Bak sent me with a message for Alma,” Allen explained. “The terms Sheril discussed with the Order didn’t include that Alma couldn’t receive messages – Bak asked me to deliver it to Alma personally.”  
  
Road giggled. “A loophole. Sheril will be annoyed,” Road acknowledged, amusement trickling into her voice. “But too bad you still can’t see Alma – he only gets visitors if we allow it.”  
  
Allen’s frown remained in place. “And you won’t allow me to see him?”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Road said as she clasped her hands behind her back. “What a shame – you’ll have to let Bak know you weren’t able to do as he asked.”  
  
Allen’s fist balled, though his expression otherwise remained composed: a cool, collected mask of neutrality, close to unreadable and distant.  
  
Tyki smirked at Allen. “Don’t worry,” he said as he waved his hand dismissively. “We can deliver the message to Flower Boy – you just won’t get to see him.”  
  
Immediately, Allen’s mask fractured, a look of surprise appearing in his eyes. However, they soon narrowed as Allen’s distrust of the Noah seeped into his veins. “And how do I know you’ll actually do that?”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “You don’t,” he answered simply, before he grinned. “But it’s either not knowing for sure or knowing for sure that you failed. Your choice.”  
  
Allen didn’t say anything, as he never removed his gaze from Tyki. He stared, eying the Noah with such an intensity that it was almost a bit startling – almost as though Allen were reading into every hint. Every sign.  
  
Without uttering a word, Allen reached into one of the pouches around his belt – just as he pulled out a silver-coated coin.  
  
Allen stepped forward and handed the coin out to Tyki. He never once broke eye contact.  
  
Tyki reached over to take the coin, with Allen closing his fist just as Tyki was about to grasp it.  
  
A bit intrigued, Tyki looked back at Allen – and he was immediately met with the marked deity’s steely gaze.  
  
“Make sure Alma gets it,” Allen warned. “He needs to read it.”  
  
Tyki’s lips quirked upward. “I’ll make sure it’s dealt with.”  
  
With that, Allen opened his hand back up as Tyki swiped the coin.  
  
As Tyki pocketed the coin, Road watched. There was a curious gleam in her eyes as she observed the exchange, almost in the way as a hawk would observe two rodents scurrying about. However, Road didn’t comment on the exchange itself as her attention soon flittered about to Allen fully.  
  
“Allen,” Road sang sweetly. “You should stay a bit longer – you know you’re always welcome here.”  
  
Allen shook his head. “I need to be returning,” he stated. “I only came because of Alma.”  
  
Road pouted, as a feigned look of hurt danced in her eyes. “So mean.”  
  
Allen didn’t comment further, and he turned to take his leave.  
  
“Come back soon,” Tyki called, tone languid and informal.  
  
Allen stopped walking, but only for a second. The silence hung in the air as he turned his face back – but only slightly so.  
  
“I’ll come back when the Order instructs me to,” Allen finally said, words heavy like stone.  
  
To this, Tyki said nothing – not even as Allen exited through the front doors, with them shutting heavily behind him.  
  
Once Allen was gone, Road turned back to Tyki. She hummed, a thoughtful look in her eyes as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. “So,” she asked. “Just what are you planning to do with that message? Burn it? Toss it into a river somewhere?”  
  
Tyki pocketed the coin. “Like I said,” he spoke. “I’ll make sure it’s dealt with.”  
  
Road raised an eyebrow. She looked somewhat skeptical at Tyki’s words, before a strangely smug smile stretched across her lips. “Oh,” she said. “Are you going to give it to Alma then?”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “What if I did? He’s been here a while – might not hurt to let him get at least one letter,” Tyki said, before he grinned back at Road. “It’s not as if he can actually do much about anything.”  
  
Hearing this, a cackle of laughter erupted from Road. Loud, obnoxious – she didn’t hold back in expressing her amusement, which overflowed from her lips uncontrollably.  
  
Tyki frowned at the reaction. “Sorry to say I’m not exactly sure what’s so entertaining,” he pointed out. “Care to enlighten me?”  
  
Road’s laughter quieted, though the spark of amusement glinted in her eyes. “I just can’t believe it,” she said, as a giggle seeping into her words. “You’re actually _soft_ for a Chang!”  
  
Immediately, Tyki stiffened. “_What_?”  
  
“Oh, this is _rich_,” Road went on, still drowning in her own entertainment. “Wisely had mentioned you were getting tangled up with the Chang more, but I didn’t realize you actually were getting_ feelings_ for him!”  
  
Tyki could feel his normally laid-back demeanor crack. However, he quickly tried to reel himself back in; Tyki didn’t typically get riled by Road’s comments, and he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of doing so now.  
  
“Who said I had feelings for him?” Tyki asked, his words a charade of nonchalance. “I’ve only been messing with Flower Boy since he’s entertaining. Gives me something else to do to pass the time.”  
  
“Really?” Road questioned. “You _have_ been spending a lot of time with him lately…and now you’re even spending the night with him? I wonder what Lord Millennium would think if he knew how far you’d fallen.”  
  
Tyki snorted. “Lord Millennium doesn’t care who I mess with – it’s nothing more than that.”  
  
Road tilted her head to the side, as she brought a finger to her chin. “I’d hope so,” she spoke, words simultaneously sweet and sharp – a sugarcoated blade, laced in poison. “After all, you know you’re prone to getting attached to meaningless things – it’d be in your best interest not to let that happen again.”  
  
Immediately, Tyki stilled.  
  
_Tyki knelt down in front of the boy. He was young – a child, hardly older than ten or eleven perhaps. His body was small too, and he had a frail frame – possibly due to poor health and malnourishment. His hair was light but dirty, and his clothes were worn. A thin, threadbare scarf was wrapped around him, covering his mouth and looking as though it were about to swallow him whole.  
  
Smiling at the boy, Tyki spoke. “I brought you something.”  
  
The young boy listened. His pale eyes were filled with anticipation as he watched Tyki pull out something from his pocket – something small, but glittering in his grasp.  
  
Eyes widening, the boy was stunned when he realized it was a gemstone. “Wow!” he exclaimed, completely awestruck. “I can really keep it?”  
  
Tyki grinned. “Sure. Keep it. Sell it. Do whatever you want – it’s yours now.”  
  
The boy’s eyes crinkled, and Tyki knew he was smiling, mouth still concealed beneath the scarf. The warmth and gratitude spilled through though, as he spoke.  
  
“Thanks, Tyki.”_  
  
Tyki didn’t respond to Road, expression muted and distant. The usual, laid-back air about him was gone by now gone, with his golden eyes hard and hazed with unpleasant memories. _Painful_ memories.  
  
Road eyed Tyki. Although he hadn’t spoken, she knew that her words had struck a chord. “He is a Chang,” Road reminded Tyki. “You know how they are – he’s bound to use you the moment he has a chance. Just wait. It’ll happen.”  
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed, his expression remaining stony.   
  
“I could care less,” Tyki said, words cold. “Whatever happens to Flower Boy in the end isn’t any of _my _concern.”  
  
Before Road could say anything more, Tyki turned. “I have some things to get back to.”  
  
Road remained quiet, as Tyki briskly walked off. As he did, a devilish smile appeared on Road’s face, as she held something in her hand.  
  
Looking down, she eyed the silver coin – the one that Tyki undoubtedly thought he still had.  
  
“We’ll see,” Road said, the smile never once leaving her face.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma looked in the mirror, seated at the vanity in his room as he tried to fix his hair. As usual it was somewhat of a mess, with strands sticking up and refusing to stay in place. Frowning, Alma tried to smooth some parts of it down – at least so it wouldn’t look _too_ disheveled.  
  
Unfortunately, Alma was fighting a losing battle. He exhaled, as he adjusted the thin, silvery circlet on his head. Technically, his hair didn’t look any different that it had before – Alma’s hair was always a bit unmanageable. But lately Alma had found that he was fixating on parts of his appearance more – fretting over small details, being extra conscious about what he wore. Alma had even started to wear more of the darker clothing that Lala had originally brought for him, with his chitons now consisting of cool tones and dark metallic hues, almost as though he thought that would ease whatever self-consciousness he was suddenly suffering from.  
  
Alma sighed, as he placed his head into his elbows onto the table. He didn’t understand why he was so stuck on such a thing; Alma had never given his appearance any thought before. He had never had a reason to worry about it.  
  
But now, Alma was spending more time with Tyki. And the more time Alma spent with Tyki…well, the more he wanted to look _nice_ for Tyki. But how was Alma supposed to gauge that?  
  
Lifting his head, Alma tried to push his thoughts aside. He could feel his worries spiraling, and he knew he was probably overthinking it. Or maybe he wasn’t?  
  
_‘I should ask Lala when I see her…maybe she’ll have some advice,’_ Alma thought as he got up from the vanity.  
  
The two teases flew to Alma, as he walked to the window. They hovered, lingering beside the blossoms that tendrilled up alongside the window, the cliffroses and honeysuckle fragrant and sweet.  
  
Alma looked at the teases, and smiled. “Do you want to go outside?” he asked as a spark could be seen in his eyes. “Tyki took my anklet off, so I can go now! And there’s that nice garden for you two to enjoy.”  
  
The teases flapped their wings, moving up and then down, almost as though to signify a “yes.” Seeing this, Alma could feel his excitement simmer; he had only been able to go outside a few times, and it was only if Tyki was ever able to take him.   
  
But now, Alma could go outside freely.  
  
The teases moved, as they attached to Alma’s belt – a rope of woven crystals, that paired well with the pewter-colored chiton he had on.  
  
With the teases situated, Alma was quick to tend to the flowers in his room. It didn’t take long, what with most of them already having been well-taken care of. As Alma performed his task, he could feel his earlier anxieties melt away, as a sense of contentment filled him – even more so when he thought about being able to go outside and wander about as he wished.  
  
Finishing up, Alma went to the door to open it-  
  
He stopped, just as he nearly collided with Tyki.  
  
“Oh! I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon,” Alma said as he took a step back. He looked up at Tyki, eyes bright. “Was everything okay?”  
  
Tyki grinned. He leaned against the doorframe. “Sure it was. Nothing too major,” he said, as he reached his hand into his pocket. “Actually-“  
  
Tyki cut off. As he reached into his pocket, he was suddenly aware that the coin was gone.  
  
Alma blinked and looked at Tyki curiously. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”  
  
Quickly, Tyki composed himself. “Yeah, just remembered I forgot something is all,” he said.  
  
Alma nodded, accepting the response with ease. An idea striking him, Alma looked up, eyes a bit hopeful. “I’m going outside – do you want to come with me? I know you said I could go alone now, but I wouldn’t mind if you still wanted to.”  
  
Tyki paused. For a small moment, a part of him almost said yes. However, he bit back the response, as the conversation he had with Road replayed in his head – he would need to be wary.  
  
Tyki kept a languid smile on his face. “I would if I could, but I have to still deal with a few things,” Tyki said. “Another time, though.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma smiled back with a small nod. While he would have liked to have spent more time with Tyki, he was certain they’d have time later on. “Okay.”  
  
Pushing himself off of the doorframe, Tyki didn’t move to leave yet. “Here,” he said. “There’s something I want to give you before I head out.”  
  
Alma looked back at Tyki, somewhat perplexed. He wasn’t sure what it was that Tyki wanted to give him; Alma’s heart thudded in his chest excitedly though as he waited to learn what it was.  
  
Taking his hands, Tyki waved them over one another. As he did this, what appeared to be a dark, inky smoke appeared, shifting as it melted into a solid object.  
  
Alma watched, eyes wide in awe, his heart nearly freezing in his chest when he saw what the object was.  
  
A necklace. It was a pretty one, simple in design but breathtaking all the same. It was a chain of solid diamonds, speckled with crushed pale amethysts. It gleamed and glittered – Alma had never seen such a lovely piece of jewelry.  
  
Then, it dawned on Alma – _this_ was what Tyki was giving to him.  
  
Somewhat shocked, Alma looked back up. “You…are you sure?” he asked, struggling to process receiving such a gift. “It’s really beautiful…”  
  
Tyki grinned. “Of course,” he insisted. “With the Erebus coming up in a few days, I thought you should have something for it. Or you could wear it now, if you really want to.”  
  
Heart jumping into his throat, Alma’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to wear it now.”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “Turn around then.”  
  
Alma did so. He could feel his stomach flutter as though a thousand butterflies were trapped inside. The sensation only increased as he felt Tyki bring the necklace around his neck – a _choker_, Alma realized. It rested at the base of his throat, the diamonds cool against his skin.  
  
Clasping it from behind, Tyki let go so Alma could turn around. As Alma did this, Tyki eyed him approvingly. “Looks good on you.”  
  
Alma blushed, completely taken by the compliment. “Really?”  
  
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Tyki said, as he grinned. “Have to admit – I’ll be looking forward to seeing you at the Erebus. I want you to save at least one dance for me.”  
  
Another skip in Alma’s chest, and the heat clung to his face. The Erebus – that was already coming up. Before, the thought of it had been overwhelming. But now, with all that had happened…Alma was actually excited. Very excited.  
  
Heart jumping, Alma met Tyki’s gaze. “I will,” he said. “I promise.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma felt lighter than he had in a long time.  
  
With a spring in his step, he hurried through the garden. He was eager to be outside – to be unrestricted and free of the dark, enclosed walls of the castle. For so long, Alma had been confined to those dimly lit rooms and corridors, limited in his movements and stifled by darkness. Even now, the darkness clung to him; it encompassed him, the outside air of the Underworld black and wintry, thin and endless. Cavern ceilings that had gems that glittered like distant starts. The sparkle and gleam an illusion of the night sky.  
  
Alma could hardly bring himself to care about the difference. It wasn’t the warm, spring air that he had been bred in and it wasn’t the vibrant, endless sky of cerulean that he loved so dearly – but it was still _outside_.   
  
Alma stopped, just as he came to an array of tiny white flowers. The two teases fluttered off of his belt as they hovered over some of the blossoms, which smelled of warm vanilla and honey.   
  
“You like those?” Alma asked, as a smile appeared on his face. “They’re really pretty, and they smell so good too.”  
  
The teases continued to hover, and Alma allowed them to be. He noticed a bush of yellow, evening primroses with some of the flowers appearing a bit limp. Walking over to them, Alma quickly tended to them, placing a hand over some of the blossoms. There was a faint glow, causing their petals to brighten and their stems to rise, restoring the flowers to their full vibrancy.  
  
“It’s so cool out here – I’m surprised you’re doing this well on your own,” Alma said to the flowers. “But now that I can come out here more, I can come check on you to make sure you’re doing okay.”  
  
The flowers of course didn’t respond, but that didn’t wipe the smile from Alma’s face. He was just so content to be out in the garden and without the constraints of the ankle binding he had been forced to wear.  
  
Alma really had missed being able to go outside – he had missed the freedom.  
  
He spent a bit longer moving through the gardens, seeing to the nocturnal blossoms and their well-being. In the last two weeks, Alma had begun to grow familiar with the different breeds the garden held; they weren’t all the same as the flowers he was used to at home, with Tyki having needed to let Alma know which were toxic and which were safe.  
  
For the most part, the majority of the flowers were safe. Except…  
  
_‘…Except for the ones over there…’_ Alma thought, as his eyes moved over toward the hedge maze. All along it, flowers were lined at the base, with the sword lilies on each side of the maze’s entrance.  
  
As Alma looked over, he felt a small shiver. He had learned that all of the flowers near the hedge maze were poisonous – though he wasn’t sure why. It had only been another reason that Tyki had given Alma when telling him he was never to go near the hedge maze.  
  
Even now, Alma still wasn’t sure as to why he was barred from it.   
  
Tearing his attention away from the maze’s entrance, Alma returned his attention to the other flowers. He needed to not worry about the maze – regardless of whatever may have been inside, Alma had promised Tyki that he wouldn’t wander into it. Surely there was a good reason for that.  
  
_‘It’s probably so dark in there – maybe he’s just worried I’d get lost,’_ Alma rationalized. He knelt beside some deep, red flowers – burning hearts, if Alma recalled correctly-  
  
There was a _snap_ – almost as though a twig had broken somewhere. Somewhat startled, Alma looked up. The sound had been small, but it echoed against the silence of the garden, shattering the peace that had been encircling it up until that point.  
  
“Hello?” Alma asked, as he looked around. The garden was dark, and the air was still; he couldn’t hear anyone walking, nor could he see anyone moving.  
  
A bit of unease trickled into Alma, but he tried to discard it. Perhaps, he had only been imagining things-  
  
“Hi, Alma.”  
  
Alma jumped, startled so much that he nearly lost his balance. He caught himself from falling, sparing both himself and the burning heart flowers from collision. His heart raced though, adrenaline pumping from the small scare as he stood, turning around.  
  
It was Road.  
  
Still somewhat caught off guard, Alma tried to speak. “Road?” he asked, as he tried to calm the unease she had stirred within him. “W-what are you doing?”  
  
Road grinned, her yellow eyes practically glowing in the darkness. “Well, it _is_ my family’s garden,” she pointed out. “But what are _you_ doing out here? You’re not supposed to be out here unless a Noah has given you permission and is accompanying you.”  
  
Alma wavered, the discomfort still evident in his features. He swallowed. “Tyki took the binding off of my ankle,” he answered, keeping his words steady. “He said I could come out here, as long as I didn’t go into the maze.”  
  
“Oh?” Road pushed. “I just saw Tyki earlier today, and he didn’t tell me that.”  
  
Alma shifted, still somewhat uneasy. “Maybe he had other things on his mind,” Alma suggested. He still wasn’t too sure as to what the dynamic was Tyki and his family members, but the last thing Alma wanted to do was get Tyki in trouble with them.  
  
“Mmm. Probably,” Road hummed. “We _did _have a surprise visitor today…”  
  
Alma looked back at Road, somewhat curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Tyki didn’t tell me…”  
  
A look of surprise appeared on Road’s face, somewhat exaggerated as she feigned a small gasp. “He didn’t?” Road questioned. “I’m actually surprised – I’d have thought you’d be the first person he’d tell.”  
  
Alma’s brow knitted together. “Why?”  
  
Road hummed, as she tilted her head to the side. “Because it was Allen Walker who came,” Road said, before she smirked at Alma. “He came with a message for you.”  
  
Shock struck Alma. “What?” he asked. “Allen was here? What was the message? Can I read it?”  
  
Road shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know what the message _said_ – only that it was from your brother,” Road answered. “Tyki took it – said he’d make sure the message was dealt with. I’d wondered if he’d given it to you. Maybe not.”  
  
Alma stared. He was struggling to process Road’s words, but something just wasn’t clicking in his brain – something wasn’t quite right, and he couldn’t accept what she said.   
  
Shaking his head, Alma struggled to speak. “No…no, Tyki wouldn’t have kept a message from me,” he said, as he thought back on his last interaction with Tyki. The smooth, gentle words, and the sweet touches. The whispered compliments, and glittering gifts-  
  
No. No, Tyki wouldn’t have _lied_ to Alma…  
  
A knowing look flashed in Road’s eyes as she watched Alma struggled to process his thoughts. “Are you so sure?” Road asked, words light. “I mean, Tyki is _still_ a Noah – he’s one of us. We’re his family, and his priority – it definitely wouldn’t be _you._”  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted back to Road, throat dry. The words were spoken with sweetened acidity, and they seeped into Alma’s bones like unpleasant needles, prickling and prodding. Digging into the marrow.  
  
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Road brushed off. “Were you really expecting anything else? Tyki doesn’t even care for you – he just told me he was only messing with you because you were entertaining to be around.”  
  
As soon as the words were spoken, something flared with in Alma. A fire of denial, quick and scalding – one that spiraled out, turning him defensive.  
  
“You’re lying,” Alma said, voice shaky as the accusation was made. “Tyki wouldn’t use me like that. Even if he’s a Noah, he still cares-“  
  
“What makes you so certain?” Road asked, as her smile broadened. “Because he took that little binding off of you, and gave you a pretty necklace to wear?”  
  
Alma stilled. The words had been spoken simply, yet held a cutting edge – one that sliced into Alma, and left him in paralysis. Dully, he was aware of the diamond and amethyst choker that rested at the base of his neck, the materials still cool.  
  
Road took a step closer to Alma, her eyes never once breaking away. There was a cruel, unyielding look to them – one that a vicious cat might have before toying with a mouse. She sighed. “It’s so terribly obvious as to what Tyki’s doing. He’s only manipulated you so that you’ll actually behave here,” Road said. “And I have to admit, he’s done a _great_ job.”  
  
“You’ve been here only a little over a month, and you’ve already gotten so comfortable. You’re even wearing the darker clothing we chose for you,” Road continued, as she grinned coldly. “It’s almost like you’ve stopped caring about going back – that you’ve stopped thinking about your family, and don’t miss them anymore.”  
  
The words were a slap in the face – a brutal one. Completely taken aback, Alma stood there, shocked to stillness as his mouth remained agape. He floundered, in an attempt to think of _some_ kind of response…  
  
“That’s not true,” Alma said, his voice harboring the faintest tremor – almost like a dried leaf, close to snapping off the branch of a tree. “That’s not true – I haven’t forgotten my _family_…“  
  
No. No, Alma hadn’t forgotten his family – how could he? His mother, his father, his brother, his grandfather – these were the people who had raised him. They had known Alma all of his life, and loved him so dearly. How could Alma _ever_ forget them? Even if it had been over a month…even if Alma _had_ started to get comfortable…  
  
It wasn’t because he had forgotten them.  
  
Road smirked. “Whatever you say,” She said, clearly doubtful of Alma’s claims. “The fact stands that you’re so taken with Tyki that you haven’t given any thought to anything – you’re just desperate for the attention. Not that I can blame you, what with how your family raised you – even _we’re_ not that twisted.”  
  
Alma’s jaw tightened, as Road’s words continued to seep in. No, he couldn’t listen to this anymore – he _wasn’t _going to listen to it. Alma didn’t have to stand there and let Road bully him with her words – he _wasn’t going to let her_.  
  
Abruptly, Alma moved passed Road as he started to walk away. “I’m going back inside.”  
  
Road didn’t stop Alma – she didn’t even turn to watch him leave. However, she did speak – her voice clear as it reached Alma’s ears.  
  
“Do you know why Tyki told you not to go into the maze?”  
  
Alma stopped walking. He didn’t say anything, though his breath hitched in his throat.  
  
Road continued. “It’s because he didn’t want you to find out the truth – about the doors hidden in there,” she said, before she glanced back toward Alma. “The ark doors that lead to the above realms.”  
  
Alma went rigid. He turned, eyes bewildered. “What?”  
  
Road giggled. “Honestly. Haven’t you ever wondered how we’ve been able to provide you with food from the above realms? Or even how we might have slipped a few akuma amongst the mortals?” Road questioned. “You’re so ignorant – you just accept things as they are.”  
  
Alma remained quiet as he again tried to process what Road had just told him. Blinking, he took a breath. “No, that can’t be true,” Alma said, as he frowned at Road. “If those were there, why would you even tell me? That doesn’t make any sense!”  
  
Road grinned. “Because I know you wouldn’t find those doors. Anyways,” she said, eyes burning in the darkness, “You promised Tyki, didn’t you? And you’re too scared to break a promise – even if it means seeing your family again.”  
  
To this, Alma said nothing. He only stood there, struck down to silence and unable to think.  
  
Road smiled, as she walked along, skipping passed Alma as she headed back to where the castle was.  
  
“The night roses look a bit sad,” Road called back, as she left Alma. “Maybe you can perk those up while you’re out here.”  
  
Alma didn’t respond. He could only stand there in the darkness of the garden as he tried to fathom what it was that Road had just divulged.  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma thought. _‘No. Tyki wouldn’t have…he wouldn’t have kept this from me…he wouldn’t have kept a message from Bak, and he wouldn’t have…tricked me…’  
  
_Alma told himself this. He tried to. But the seed of doubt had already been planted.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Wisely heard humming, he knew that Road had done something. He didn’t have to probe her thoughts to know that.  
  
Sitting on one of the divans in the lounge, Wisely looked up. Road had just skipped into the room, plopping down onto the divan on the opposing side of Wisely. She hummed some more kicking her legs as a contented air hung about her – one that was enough to make Wisely wary. Road’s contentedness often came from unpleasant things.  
  
Not even sure if he wanted to probe into Road’s mind, Wisely looked at Road curiously. “You sound happy,” he stated. “Why?”  
  
Road kicked her legs up, as she fell back onto the divan. “Hmm. Just about to prove a point,” she said, a grin plastering itself onto her face. “Now I get to wait, and see how it all turns out.”  
  
Wisely frowned. The explanation was vague. Wariness waning, Wisely peeked into the forefront of Road’s mind-  
  
He immediately understood.  
  
“I see,” Wisely said, intrigue also filling his eyes. He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “Well, that should get the message across if anything. Tyki is rather dense at times…”  
  
Road giggled. “He is. But it’s not his fault,” she said, as she grinned at Wisely. “That’s why we have to look out for each other.”  
  
Wisely didn’t say anything, as he only looked off to the side.   
  
Road remained seated, still content with her plan. It was necessary, after all – Tyki could have denied it all he wanted, but it was easy to see that he had gotten attached to the Chang. Far more than what was actually acceptable.  
  
It had only been a matter of time before something would have needed to be done.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma hadn’t left the garden. Not since his interaction with Road.  
  
He was seated on the ground, his back pressed against the stone fountain. His knees brought up to his chest, Alma had wrapped his arms around them, burying his face as he remained still. He hadn’t moved an inch – not to check on the flowers, not to go back inside. Alma had just remained still, soundless and unmoving as his mind spun with a thousand thoughts.  
  
Thoughts about his family. Thoughts about the Noah. Thoughts about _Tyki_…  
  
Alma’s fists balled, as he bit onto his lip. No. No, Tyki would _never_ have manipulated Alma. He hadn’t bribed Alma into behaving; Tyki had been _gentle_ with Alma. Tender, even. All of those times Tyki had teased Alma, the interactions soon warming into longing gazes and heated kisses. Blushing smiles and desperate embraces.  
  
The mere thought of it having been a game was enough to shatter Alma to pieces.  
  
Had Allen come with a message from Bak though? Road had said so, but Tyki had never mentioned it. Alma was naturally more inclined to believe that Road was lying, but what if she wasn’t? What if there _had_ been a message? Would Tyki have really kept that from Alma? Was that why Tyki had left earlier, and then given Alma the necklace – possibly as a mere means of distraction?  
  
Why had Tyki made Alma promise never to go into the maze?  
  
Shakily, Alma exhaled. He raised his head, eyes landing on the entrance to the maze.   
  
Alma stared at it, his eyes latching onto the maze’s dark entrance. Road had mentioned the ark doors – but could they really had led to the above realm somehow? Was that how Tyki had been able to provide food for Alma all along? Tyki had never said how it was done, but he had never bothered to explain what was in the maze either…  
  
Alma continued to stare. It was almost as though the maze had placed a spell on him, with Alma not being able to break his gaze away. For a moment, all he could think about were those doors being inside – doors that led to the mortal realm. To the sky. The fresh air.  
  
Home.  
  
Heart lurching, Alma thought of his family. Over a month had passed since he had seen them – how would his parents be now? Were they sad? Angry? Distraught? Alma had no way of knowing. He had no way of seeing them.  
  
But, if he found a door…  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma told himself as he wrapped his arms around his legs even more tightly. _‘No. You promised Tyki – you told him you wouldn’t ever go in there…!’_  
  
Alma had given his word to Tyki. But had that been a trick? A trick to make sure Alma would never try to escape back home?  
  
What if that was _all_ it had been?  
  
A heavy breath escaped Alma. It was suddenly becoming difficult to breathe, with what felt to be a crushing weight compressing his lungs. Alma just couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take thinking about choosing his word to Tyki, or the possibility of seeing his family again. It hurt too much, and it was _unbearable-_  
  
Maybe, Tyki had manipulated Alma after all.  
  
Gripping his head, Alma broke eye contact from the maze as he buried his face once more. No, no – why was Alma so _confused_? Why was he so torn about this? He had promised Tyki, but…  
  
He couldn’t abandon his family. He couldn’t let them think the worst – not if Alma had a chance to see them again.  
  
Looking back up, Alma’s eyes landed on the maze once more. The endless darkness, the eerie silence – it was a terrifying thought to go in there.  
  
But, Alma had to know. He had to know the truth.  
  
Somewhat shakily, Alma stood. He took several steps as he began to approach the maze’s entrance.  
  
As soon as Alma did, the teases fluttered over to him, both hovering just in front of Alma.  
  
Alma wavered. The teases were clearly trying to stop him – to keep him from going into the maze. However, Alma couldn’t do that – he couldn’t stop.   
  
Hurriedly, Alma tried to move passed them – however the teases caught the straps of his chiton in an attempt to prevent Alma from going on.  
  
Alma brushed them off. He felt guilty for doing so, but he couldn’t allow himself to be swayed otherwise. Swiftly, Alma made his way to the entrance of the maze, stopping just before it.  
  
Inside, Alma could only see darkness.  
  
Alma took a breath as he knelt to the ground. Waving his hand over it, a vine tendril sprouted – one that was long enough for Alma to grab.  
  
The teases continued to hover about, their motions frantic. Again, Alma tried to focus, grabbing the vine as he stood. It was still latched into the earth, but would extend as long as he held onto it and allow for Alma to find his way back.  
  
Alma glanced at the teases. “I just have to see,” he said, words shaky. “I’ll only go in for a bit.”  
  
The teases weren’t appeased as they still fluttered around Alma.  
  
Ignoring them, Alma glanced at the maze’s entrance one final time.  
  
Before Alma could change his mind, he went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it’s happened. Everything is about to go back to drama and angst from here. >.<
> 
> I’ve really been trying to enjoy what sweetness there is between Alma and Tyki, because honestly these two turned out softer in this AU than I initially planned (which I’m not complying XD). They’re both so taken with each other at this point, which in a way is dangerous. Neither of their families would necessarily be okay with such a thing (in Tyki’s case, the fact that he’s actually beginning to develop legitimate feelings would be the really danger - to be honest, they couldn’t care less if it was a meager fling), and for Alma in particular it only fuels the internal debate he as at the end of this chapter with questioning where his loyalties lie. (Yes, he cares for Tyki, but he’s been conditioned for his whole life essentially to be obedient to his family - so it’s not an easy pattern to break.)
> 
> I also couldn’t have Allen specifically locate Alma just yet. That would have been too easy, as much as I’d love for the two to be reunited. And of course Road wouldn’t simply allow for Tyki to give any message to Alma either - she’s already started to catch on to what’s developed, and while I know she seems malicious (and I mean, she is) her motivation goes well beyond that. She does care for her family and prioritize their welfare, Tyki included, and her actions are ultimately driven out of a combination in resentment for Alma/the Changs and the need to make sure Tyki is safe.
> 
> (There are so, so many overprotective family members in this AU, I can’t even think of how I’d deal if I had family like this ajdlksjdlkasj GOD.)
> 
> But yeah. The next chapter is definitely a rough one, so tea, ice cream, and anything comforting you have is strongly advised. >.< Ye have been warned!
> 
> Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated as always. <3


	23. The Maze

It was dark in the maze – far darker than Alma had imagined it would be. The paths twisted and turned with the hedges such a deep shade of emerald that they were nearly black. The ground was cold and hard – a stone path weaving throughout the hedges that spiraled and split into numerous directions.  
  
Shivering, Alma gripped at the vine. He had brought it into the maze with him, allowing it to extend so that he would be able to find his way back out of the maze. He was glad to have done so; being inside the maze was dizzying and already Alma had started to lose track of how many turns he had taken.  
  
A tease fluttered near Alma. Only one had come inside the maze with him, with the other having remained behind.  
  
The tease flew to Alma as it flapped against his shoulder.  
  
Alma glanced at it. “I just need to go a little farther,” he said as he continued on. “I…I just need to see if there’s…”  
  
Alma didn’t finish. The ark door. A way out. Road had said there were doors in the hedge maze – doors that led to the above realms. Doors that could take Alma home.  
  
Doors that could take him back to his family and away from Tyki.  
  
Alma’s insides knotted up, almost to the point of turning him nauseous. Tyki. Tyki, who had possibly been lying to Alma this whole time – Tyki, who had possibly been deceiving Alma and stringing him along.  
  
Deep down, Alma still wanted to deny it. He still wanted to deny that Tyki was just _toying_ with him…  
  
Alma wanted to deny it so badly, but he needed to know. He needed to know if Road had been telling the truth. He needed to know if the doors existed, and if…  
  
_‘…And if Tyki really was keeping it from me,’_ he thought.  
  
Another wrench twisted itself into Alma as the last few days replayed in his thoughts. Tyki kissing him in the greenhouse. Tyki spending the night with him and holding him close. Tyki giving him the necklace and putting it on him…  
  
_Clasping it from behind, Tyki let go so Alma could turn around. Tyki eyed him approvingly. “Looks good on you.”  
  
Alma blushed, heart skipping. “Really?”  
  
Tyki grinned. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”_  
  
A flare of heat burned behind Alma’s eyes, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. Tyki had seemed so _genuine_ – had it really been a charade? Alma was so confused, and even more so by the horrible _guilt _that was clawing him from the inside out.  
  
_‘You gave him your word,’_ a voice tried to remind Alma. _‘You promised him you wouldn’t come here!’_  
  
Alma’s hands clenched at the vine, his grasp trembling. Alma knew that he was breaking his promise – that he was breaking the very promise he had made Tyki only a day ago. Inside, the realization made him feel wretched; Alma never broke promises. He had been raised to honor them and to keep them sacred and true.  
  
Yet here he was, breaking one. He was breaking the one promise that Tyki had asked of him.  
  
_‘But your family,’_ another voice prodded. _‘What about your _family_?’_  
  
Alma stiffened, his own thoughts tearing him apart. His family. God, what if the ark doors _could_ take Alma home? Could Alma really miss such a chance? To see his mother and father, and finally go back to his family? It had been so long, and after what Road had said…  
  
_“You’ve been here only a little over a month, and you’ve already gotten so comfortable. You’re even wearing the darker clothing we chose for you,” Road continued. “It’s almost like you’ve stopped caring about going back – that you’ve stopped thinking about your family, and don’t miss them anymore.”_  
  
The words still stung. They stung and they burned, like embers searing into Alma’s skin, etching themselves so deeply into his psyche that Alma wanted to scream.   
  
_‘But I haven’t forgotten,’_ Alma wanted to shout. _‘I haven’t forgotten about them!’_  
  
Perhaps, Road’s words had hurt terribly because they held a grain of truth. Alma _had _begun to get more comfortable in the Underworld. He would wear the darker clothing given to him, and he would dine with the Noah every evening. He was doing this all so much that it was almost beginning to feel _normal._ Alma had fallen into a routine: he tended to the greenhouse, he occasionally wandered the castle a bit more…  
  
Alma still thought about his family, but he realized that he had thought of them less that last week. He had thought of them less, and he had spent more time with Tyki instead.  
  
_‘Tyki.’_  
  
Thoughts unrelenting, Alma brought a hand to his forehead. He shut his eyes tightly, the heat continuing to burn as what felt like moisture began to collect at the corners of his eyes. A heavy, uneven breath escaped Alma, with his lungs fighting a tremor as his composure began to crumble.  
  
Quietly, the tease landed on Alma’s shoulder.  
  
A few more breaths escaped Alma and he tried to speak to the tease. “I…I’m sorry,” Alma apologized, though he wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for anymore.  
“I just…I don’t know what to _do…_”  
  
The tease flapped its wings as it gingerly brushed against Alma’s shoulder – almost in a comforting way.  
  
Alma turned his head slightly. Taking his hand, he brought a finger to the tease as he gently touched it.   
  
“I must seem so terrible,” Alma realized. “I can’t even make up my mind about this…”  
  
The tease flapped its wings as it flew off of Alma’s shoulder. In the darkness, it fluttered behind Alma – back toward the path from which Alma had come.  
  
Alma stared. He knew that the tease was trying to get him to turn back – to leave the maze before he walked any farther. However, Alma could still feel his hesitation grip him by the heart as the thought of his family flashed in his mind.   
  
That image was quickly followed by Tyki’s.  
  
_Alma was wretched. Wretched, and starving. He hadn’t eaten anything in over two days, the fear of being bound to the Underworld too much for him to bear. It was too much, and now Tyki was there, promising him safe food like some cruel, horrid joke.  
  
“But…how did you get it?” Alma asked, not certain as to how anything Tyki brought could have been from the mortal realm. “If you can’t go there…”  
  
Tyki grinned. “It’s a secret,”he said. “But a give you my word as a Noah – any food I bring you will be from the upper world, alright? And I don’t make promises unless I can keep them.”_  
  
Alma’s throat turned dry at the memory. Promises. Tyki had always kept his promises to Alma…  
  
_Alma shifted. He could feel the warmth of someone beside him, causing Alma to further rouse from his slumber. He turned, with his face nestling into someone’s shoulder. The familiar scent of smoke and cedar filled Alma’s lungs.  
  
Blinking, Alma opened his eyes, hazy and clouded with wear. He soon recognized Tyki though, who was lying beside him in bed.  
  
“You actually stayed the whole night,” Alma said.  
  
Tyki smiled. “Sure I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”_  
  
Another painful tug yanked at Alma’s heartstrings. His guilt continued to fester.  
  
Alma had made a mistake. He shouldn’t have come into the maze so recklessly. He shouldn’t have done so without asking _Tyki_…  
  
Pushing aside the betrayal he felt for his family, Alma turned back to the tease. “Let’s go back,” he said, words leaden as his stomach remained knotted. “I…I shouldn’t have done this….”  
  
The tease waited as Alma clasped at the vine. He started to turn-  
  
There was a loud rustle as a tremor suddenly shook the ground. Alma staggered from the sensation, his grip tightening on the vine as his eyes widened. He managed to keep his balance though, and looked back up.  
  
Alma went rigid. When he looked, he could see the passage closing as a hedge sprouted upward.  
  
Alarm filled Alma and he bolted toward the wall. “No!”  
  
Alma tried to make it, but he was too late; the hedge had already grown, towering high as it completely cut off the path.  
  
Alma bit his lip. He looked down at the vine that he had been using as a guide and tugged. The hedge maze had grown around it, but despite Alma’s efforts, the vine was stuck – it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard Alma attempted to will it.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma looked up. The hedge was high, but if Alma was lucky, he might have been able to climb it.   
  
Alma clasped at the hedge, before he tried to pull himself upward-  
  
There was a sharp _sting _as something abruptly pierced Alma’s hands.  
  
Crying out, Alma let go. He landed on the ground with a painful _thud_, but tried to push himself back up.  
  
As soon as Alma pressed onto his hands for support, there was another horrid sting. He grimaced as a terrible pain shot throughout his hands – so much that he could feel his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears.  
  
Bleary-eyed, Alma sat up. He looked at the palms of his hands.   
  
Red. They were red and splotchy, with what appeared little white bumps forming –_blisters_.   
  
Alma’s eyes flickered to the hedge. _‘It’s poisonous…’ _he realized.  
  
Alma forced himself onto his legs. His hands continued to burn, the discomfort remaining despite the dulling of the sting. However, Alma didn’t want to risk hurting them anymore and kept them pulled close to his chest protectively.  
  
The tease fluttered over to Alma. Swallowing, Alma glanced at it.  
  
“Do…do you know another way out?” Alma asked, unable to keep the fear from trickling into his voice.  
  
The tease hovered in the air. It didn’t move in one direction or another, with its movement appearing almost contemplative –_ hesitant_, even.  
  
A sinking feeling overcame Alma as he soon realized the reason for the tease’s lack of responsiveness: it didn’t know another way.  
  
Still holding his hands close, Alma inhaled. He turned to look down the path – one that continued to stretch into the darkness, with the hedges looming high above. If he couldn’t go back the way he came…  
  
“I…guess we should go this way,” Alma said to the tease.  
  
The tease fluttered close, and Alma started walking.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Tyki walked down the hall, pace brisk. It was an unusual thing; Tyki was often so languid and took his time as he pleased. There weren’t many things that could motivate Tyki to do anything more. Not when he often had so much time to spare.  
  
But now, Tyki didn’t feel that. He didn’t feel like being leisurely.  
  
In fact, he felt annoyed.  
  
He reached his destination quickly, soon coming to a pair of doors. Without hesitation, Tyki phased through the doors and entered into the lounging room.  
  
Wisely was there, seated on one of the divans as he appeared to be reading something. Lulu Bell was curled up beside him in her feline form.   
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed as he quickly moved his gaze to across from Wisely-  
  
Road was there.  
  
Road looked up. She had been drawing what appeared to be a picture – flowers, by the looks of it. Her attention was quickly derailed as she beamed at Tyki.   
  
“Hi, Tyki,” she greeted, before she held up her drawing. “Want to draw some pictures with me?”  
  
Tyki frowned. “No, but I want you to give that coin back,” he said. “So, come on – hand it over.”  
  
Road feigned a gasp. She brought her hand to her lips. “Why, whatever are you talking about?”  
  
Tyki rolled his eyes. Normally, he would have had more patience for Road – her games were usually more fun than tedious. However, Tyki couldn’t say he was in the mood to play with her. Not given the circumstances.  
  
“You know what I’m talking about,” Tyki spoke, crossing his arms. “Seriously, Road – I don’t feel like messing around today.”  
  
Wisely put down his book and exhaled heavily. “Ugh, Road, just give it to him – he’s not going to stop asking, and I don’t need another headache.”  
  
Road pouted. “You’re both no fun,” she said, before she turned back to Tyki. Taking both of her hands, she held them out with her fists closed.  
  
“Guess,” Road instructed.  
  
Tyki stared for a moment, looking at both fists. Then, before Road could prompt him further, he took both of his hands and phased through each of Road’s fists. He did so in a swift motion, and easily pulled back.  
  
When Tyki looked, he saw that he had the silver coin in his left hand.  
  
Road’s mouth fell open. “You _cheated_!”  
  
Tyki only grinned. “And? You stole it. I just stole it back.”  
  
Road huffed. She crossed her arms, leaning back onto the divan. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “But I still think you’ve gotten too soft for the Chang – you know he can’t be trusted.”  
  
Tyki snorted. “Who said I trusted him? Giving him a little message doesn’t mean that.”  
  
Wisely glanced over, an eyebrow raised. “Oh? Isn’t it because you trust him that you took the binding off of him?” Wisely asked. “You _know_ that he’s going to run off once he gets the chance…”  
  
Tyki faltered for a second. He quickly caught himself as he waved Wisely off. “I took it off because he’s pitiful enough as it is,” Tyki expressed, keeping his words nonchalant. “Anyways, Flower Boy gave me his word that he wouldn’t wander off. He knows that the maze is off limits.”  
  
Road hummed. “Are you sure he’s going to keep that promise? I’m surprised, Tyki, that you’d even believe his word.”  
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed, a hint of agitation gleaming in his eyes. For whatever reason, Road’s words prickled – they prickled far more than they should have. However, tried to keep his reaction neutral; he didn’t need his family to think he had any reason to get riled up over the subject.  
  
“Maybe he won’t. If he doesn’t, I’ll eat crow,” Tyki said. “But Flower Boy will keep his promise– he wouldn’t dare break it.”  
  
Road raised an eyebrow, before her lips tugged into a slow, small smirk. “Whatever you say, Tyki,” she said. “Just don’t say we didn’t warn you. Sheril will already have a such a _fit_ when he learns what you did.”  
  
Tyki eyed Road for a second longer, as his gaze met hers. In her eyes, Tyki couldn’t help but notice the strangely knowing look she bore, almost as if Road knew some dark, dirty little secret.  
  
Without saying anything, Tyki took the coin as he phased back through the door.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The farther Alma walked into the maze, the colder the air became.  
  
Alma fought a shudder as he kept his arms close to his body. A few times, he tried to rub his arms in an attempt to warm them. The effort was cut short though; the blisters on Alma’s hands remained, and each time Alma brushed his palms against anything they stung terribly. On top of that, the cold only appeared to agitate them further, with Alma’s hands growing dry and the skin turning pink from irritation.  
  
Carefully, Alma kept his hands close to his chest. The maze was never-ending, with its paths continuing to twist and turn in a dizzying convulsion. Several times, Alma found himself at dead ends, which forced him to turn around until he could find another path – or at least, what he _thought_ was another one. However, the fact of the matter remained: Alma was lost.  
  
As the thought entered into his mind, a fresh wave of dismay washed over Alma. He didn’t know how long he had been in the maze now. It felt as though it must have at least been an hour, if not a bit longer. Alma could feel his body beginning to grow weary, and his head was dizzy from the cold. The darkness was unrelenting, and Alma just felt so _alone_…  
  
He had no idea how he would get out of the maze.  
  
Chewing the inside of his cheek, Alma felt himself cease walking. He had to; Alma was just so tired, and he just…  
  
_‘I shouldn’t have come here…’_ Alma thought, unable to keep the guilt from once more wracking into his insides. _‘I shouldn’t have…’_  
  
The tease, which had remained perched on Alma’s shoulder, fluttered off. It flew, stopping just as it hovered right in front of Alma.  
  
Alma blinked, as his eyes landed on the inky butterfly. “Ah, sorry…” he apologized. “I was just a little tired, but I can keep going-“  
  
There was a sudden gust of wind, causing Alma to cut off. A violent shiver rippled throughout Alma as he grimaced in discomfort, the howl of the wind shrill in his ears.  
  
_“…Alma…”_  
  
Alma looked up, the air now icy and his breath appearing in small puffs of smoke. He glanced around, turning as he looked about the hedge maze. Had someone just spoken his name?  
  
Turning back to look forward, Alma shook his head. No. No, it must have been the wind-  
  
_“…Alma…”_  
  
Startled, Alma whirled around. He attempted to peer through the darkness, eyes wide as he strained to see where the voice had come from. “H-Hello?”  
  
There was no immediate answer, and only the low whistle of the window echoing through the maze’s passageways.   
  
Pulse beginning to quicken, Alma turned back as he began to move forward. He hurried along, a kiss of fear lingering at the nape of his neck.   
  
Get out. Alma had to find a way through the maze and _get out_.  
  
_“…Alma…Alma, stay here…”  
  
_A voice. It was definitely a _voice_, Alma realized. It was not one that he recognized, or not one that even sounded human. It was strange and ghostly – almost like a distant echo from deep within the hedges.  
  
Alma realized he couldn’t even tell where it was coming from.  
  
_“…Don’t leave, Alma…”_ the voice continued to whisper. _“…You belong here…”_  
  
Alma tried to ignore it. He didn’t want to listen to it – he wanted to _escape_ it. Desperately, Alma moved faster, his pace soon speeding into a run as he rushed down the path. He turned left, right – Alma zigzagging through the hedge maze quickly as he tried to flee the voice.  
  
_“…Stay here, Alma. Stay here with us…”  
  
_There was shift of movement in one of the hedges, almost as though something where slithering beneath it. It rippled like a serpent coiling before it was about to strike its prey-  
  
Abruptly, something burst form the hedge wall: an explosion of inky tendrils, sharp and twisting.  
  
A tendril shot out, grabbing Alma by the hem of his chiton. He fell, landing on his hands. A searing pain coursed throughout Alma’s palms, though he hardly paid them any mind. He was too distracted, looking back with a terrified gazed as the tendrils grabbed at him, pulling at his clothing and curling about at his legs.  
  
Eyes wide, Alma kicked his legs. “Get off!” he shouted, before the tendrils could curl around Alma anymore. He pushed himself off the ground, chiton tearing at the hem as the tendrils tried to cling to him – but Alma didn’t care. He had to _run_.  
  
Without any delay, Alma started to run, his blood pounding in his ears. He could hear the hedges on both sides of him rippling,as the foliage rustled and the maze shifted.   
  
Another burst occurred, and more tendrils shot out. Alma barely avoided them, with their cold, blade-like grasps grazing against his arms. He winced, as he could feel one of the tendrils cut into his skin – but Alma pushed himself harder to run as fast as possible.  
  
The tendrils shifted, though the sound soon fell behind Alma. Alma couldn’t stop running though; he could only run faster, forcing himself to flee so quickly that his legs were beginning to burn.  
  
_“…Alma…”_  
  
_“….Alma, you can’t run away….”  
  
“…Just stay here…”  
  
“…Stay where you belong…”_  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma thought, as he shut his eyes tightly. _‘No, I don’t belong here…!’_  
  
The voices continued, and Alma forced himself to keep running.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Tyki went to Alma’s room, there was no sign of him.  
  
Tyki sighed as he pulled his head back through the door. He had just phased through it, poking his head in to see if Alma were still around – but it appeared that Alma had left.   
  
Standing upright, Tyki placed a hand in his pocket. Inside it, he could feel the silver coin – the one with the message that had been intended for Alma.   
  
_‘Flower Boy will be happy to get something…’_ Tyki thought, though a small frown remained on his face. In the back of his mind, he hadn’t forgotten Road’s accusations.  
  
_“But I still think you’ve gotten too soft for the Chang – you know he can’t be trusted.”_  
  
Tyki shook his head. Road always said things like that – things to poke and prod, and to get beneath people’s skin. It wasn’t anything unusual; it was in Road’s nature to prick at those around her. Even her own kin.  
  
Besides – it wasn’t anything _major_ that Tyki was doing. He was only delivering a message.  
  
Hands still in his pockets, Tyki left the room. He at first considered going to the greenhouse, since that was a spot Alma could often be found in. However, Tyki quickly remembered about the removed anklet and Alma’s newfound freedom.  
  
Of course – _of course_, Alma would be outside.  
  
Changing his course of direction, Tyki made his way through the corridors, sneaking down a small stairwell before he located a passage on the first floor. It led outside – not through the main front of the castle, but along the east side of it.  
  
Outside, it was quiet. The whole exterior of the castle was often so, but somehow the side entrances always seemed especially soundless. There was not a breath of wind, not a brush of a leaves; some plant life and blossoms actually extended around both sides of the castle, though they were not as plentiful. It mostly consisted of thorny brambles and vines, twisting and gnarling as though they were meant to ward off intruders and unwanted guests.  
  
Ignoring them, Tyki walked around to the front. He could see the bulk of the gardens coming into view, the faint scent of sweetness tickling his nose. It was a more prominent scent, Tyki noticed; usually any fragrance from the garden was subtle and repressed by the chill in the wintry air. But now...  
  
Now, it smelled more like spring.  
  
Stopping in the garden, Tyki glanced around. He noticed some of the flowers appeared a bit brighter and more vibrant – almost as though a splash of color had been dabbed onto their petals, freshly perfumed and kissed with life. Gently thriving, and quietly flourishing.  
  
Eyes still lingering on the flowers, Tyki realized that Alma must have just tended to them. The flowers always looked brighter when Alma spent time with them.  
  
Tyki looked away from the flowers as he allowed his eyes to skim the garden. As he did, a small frown tugged at his lips. From what he could see, Alma didn’t appear to be outside anymore.   
  
Shrugging, Tyki turned. More than likely, Alma had probably just gone inside-  
  
There was a flash of inky darkness, causing Tyki to stop. Just before him, a tease flew, its wings beating frantically as it fluttered back and forth.  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow. Although the teases to anyone else appeared identical, he recognized this one: it was one of the teases that usually accompanied Alma.   
  
“What are you doing out here? Thought I told you to keep an eye on Flower Boy,” Tyki commented.  
  
The tease continued to fly about, energy frantic. In Tyki’s ear, he heard a faint whisper.  
  
Tyki tensed. He stared at the tease, completely stunned.  
  
Without saying anything, Tyki turned onto his heel as he broke into a run.  
  
No. No, Alma wouldn’t have done that – Tyki was sure of it. Tyki was sure that-  
  
Tyki stopped running just as he came to the entrance of the hedge maze. As always, the inside was dark: an inky abyss that led to seemingly nowhere, as it twisted and spiraled into all sorts of directions. Inside, there was the faintest echo of a breeze, which only appeared to highlight the barren nature of the hedge maze to anyone who dared to be close enough.  
  
On the ground, there was what appeared to have at one time been some sort of vine, spiraling out and extending into maze. However, it was now dark and shriveled, the life drained from it entirely.  
  
A curse escaping his lips, Tyki ran into the maze.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Running. Alma was still _running._  
_  
_The voices had quieted, dying into small, distant whispers. However, Alma couldn’t risk it – he didn’t dare. The whispers echoed in his memories, taunting him and calling to him like a haunting call that he couldn’t escape. No matter how hard he tried to block out their words or how fast he tried to run…  
  
_“Stay here…stay where you belong…”_  
  
Lies. They were lies. Alma didn’t belong there – he didn’t belong in the maze and he didn’t belong in the _darkness_. He was from the upper world, where the sun always shined so brightly, and the sky was eternally blue. He belonged where spring came, the air warm and the grass soft, where flowers thrived and life flourished.  
  
No. No, Alma did _not_ belong in the darkness…  
  
A sharp pain burned in Alma’s legs. He faltered, staggering as he tripped forward. Alma barely managed to keep his footing, though the pause came at a price. His legs seared, the muscles feeling as though they were on fire the moment Alma ceased to run.  
  
Legs buckling, Alma fell to his knees. He took several deep breaths, his lungs feeling as though they had been scorched by hot sand and his chest aching terribly.  
  
Alma tried to catch his breath. It was almost as though he couldn’t get enough air, no matter how much he breathed; his lungs were just _straining_, with each breath feeling as though a knife were digging into his abdomen.  
  
_‘I’m...so tired…’_ Alma thought. His body felt like lead, and the thought of standing was suddenly an impossible feat; Alma didn’t even know when he’d be able to get up again, let alone run. He was too _exhausted_.  
  
The tease that had stayed with Alma hovered in front of him, flapping its wings. Wearily, Alma looked up.   
  
As soon as the tease saw it had Alma’s attention, it flew a bit forward as if to urge Alma to move.  
  
Alma exhaled. He knew that the tease was right – that Alma needed to keep moving before something else found him.  
  
Mustering all the strength he had, Alma shakily forced himself to stand. His legs felt unstable, like two brittle blades of grass threatening to collapse beneath stone. However, Alma ignored the burning in his legs as he did his best to keep steady.  
  
Alma waited a moment. He had to, in order to be certain that he wouldn’t collapse again. But soon Alma was able to start walking, his pace slow and wobbly.  
  
He could only hope that the voices wouldn’t catch up to him – not for a while at least.  
  
Alma continued as the tease kept just a short bit ahead of him. Alma tried to focus on it, but he struggled; his eyelids were heavy and his mind hazed. Everything just felt so _clouded_. It was almost as though Alma couldn’t think straight anymore.  
  
_‘Just…just keep moving,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘There’s an exit. There _has_ to be an exit…’_  
  
The path remained the same for some time, with Alma occasionally coming to a turn. He would often hesitate, no longer having a solid sense of direction. He had been running so much throughout the maze that Alma couldn’t begin to recall which way was north, south, east, or west. Everything just looked the same, and…  
  
Alma had no idea where to go.  
  
A heavy sense of defeat fell over Alma as he paused just in front of where the path once more divided. He looked between the two directions – both which were equally dark, with tall, looming hedges on each side.   
  
After staring for a moment, Alma turned to make a left.  
  
As he trekked down the chosen path it gradually grew darker, with some of the hedges beginning to extend overhead. Because of this, the path looked like more of a tunnel than anything else: a dark, endless tunnel with no light in sight.  
  
Uneasily, Alma glanced around. He debated on turning back, but already had come so far. Besides, what if the other path also had turned into a tunnel? Alma would have to trek through _one_ of them…  
  
The tease landed on Alma’s shoulder and he glanced over at it. “Maybe…if we go a little father it’ll take us somewhere. If not, we can try the other way.”  
  
To this, the tease didn’t react.  
  
The tunnel went on for a bit longer. Alma had to do his best to focus, his eyes straining to make his way through the darkened path. Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure how he was making it as it was; he could barely see the ground, and on a few occasions he tripped over his own feet.  
  
Alma was beginning to consider turning around – but paused when he saw an opening ahead.  
  
It was small in the distance – so much, that Alma thought that perhaps he was only seeing things. But no, there was definitely some kind of opening. Perhaps even one that led outside of the maze.  
  
Heart jumping, Alma quickened his pace. Ignoring the ache in his bones, he began to run.  
  
_‘An exit,’_ he realized. _‘It’s an exit-!’_  
  
Alma stopped just as he reached the end of the tunnel.  
  
It was an opening – that much Alma had been correct about. The tunneled path led to what appeared to be a small, open courtyard. The stone path cut straight through it, with dark patches of grass on each side. Additionally, Alma could see that there were trees in the courtyards – somewhat tall, and holding what appeared to be some kind of large, red fruit that Alma was unfamiliar with.  
  
Taking a few steps into the courtyard, Alma’s heart fell. As he looked around, he realized there was no exit. There was only where the path continued, leading to who knew where.  
  
_‘Guess I…better keep going...’_ Alma realized.  
  
As he made his way down the path, Alma couldn’t help but glance on each side of the courtyard. Again, his eyes gravitated to the trees,and the strange fruit they bore; they were such a deep red color, unlike any that Alma had ever seen, and at the base of the trees…  
  
At the trees’ bases, there were rings of silvery water.  
  
Pausing, Alma stared. Water – he hadn’t expected to find water in the maze. Shifting a bit, Alma glanced at his hands; the palms were still red, with the white bumps raw and some of the blisters having broken. They were dry too, with the cold air having caused the skin to look shriveled and irritated.  
  
Without a second thought, Alma left the path, hurrying to one of the trees. He knelt down at the base before the ring of water that encircled it. Carefully, Alma placed his hands into the water, hoping to soothe them…  
  
_…But he was no longer in the courtyard.  
  
Alma blinked. He looked to his shoulder, but the tease was no longer with him either. Alma was alone. He was alone and in an oddly familiar place. A window with a bed of flowers at the base, books tossed about messily, a bed that Alma had slept in for years…  
  
His bedroom. His bedroom back at home.  
  
Alma stared, completely perplexed. Was he dreaming? No, he had just been in the courtyard in the maze – he was conscious. However, he felt oddly dazed, almost as though he were experiencing a strange sense of déjà vu. Almost as though he were in some strange experience that he had already been through.  
  
Something wasn’t right.  
  
Alma didn’t know what it was. There was a chill at the base of his spine, and he could feel the hairs on his arm stand.  
  
Alma shivered. Not sure what to do, he sat on the edge of his bed-  
  
There was the sound of glass shattering, and Alma turned toward the window. His eyes widened as he was suddenly knocked backwards onto his bed.  
  
Head spinning, Alma struggled. He was being pinned by the wrists, as something loomed over his body. Something heavy, and large, and…  
  
_Monstrous_.  
  
Alma stared, horrified as he took in the details of what had pinned him down. It was a thing: a horrible, atrocious _thing._ Its limbs were long, and glinted like slate gray metal, inhuman machine-like. The form was skeletal, with slabs of rotting, deadened flesh clinging to its appendages.  
  
It had no eyes.  
  
Empty sockets. Black holes. The face was terrifying: a nightmarish sight, with a rotted nose and sharp-toothed grin. Ugly. Rancid.  
  
Alma had seen this creature before. He had seen it, and a single word raced through his mind:  
  
_Akuma._  
  
Alma’s heart pounded in his chest, so much that he feared it would explode. He could do little else than stare though, unable to tear his eyes away from the akuma as it loomed over him, its body crouched like some misshapen grasshopper as it grinned down at him tauntingly.  
  
“Stop trying to run,” the akuma said. It brought its face low so that it was just above Alma’s. “You weren’t meant for the light….you belong here…”  
  
Something in Alma seemed to snap and he struggled against the akuma. “No,” he said, words shaky. “No, I don’t belong anywhere near you!”  
  
The akuma laughed, voice low and raspy. “Yes, you do,” it taunted, before it brought a bladed hand close to Alma’s face. “You know it, deep down. Even your parents do.”  
  
Alma paused, confused by the words of the akuma. He stared back, throat dry. “What…?”  
  
Leaning closer, the akuma’s mouth was close to Alma’s ear – so much, that Alma could smell the rancid breath of the demon. “You belong in the darkness,” it whispered quietly. “Because I marked you myself.”  
  
As soon as the akuma whispered those words, a flash of images flooded Alma’s mind.  
  
…An attack. An attack when he was a child….  
  
….Nights. Longs nights of agonized screaming….  
  
….Blackened skin, venom in his veins…  
  
…His parents. His parents trying to stop it….  
  
“Stop,” Alma tried to manage, before he found himself screaming. “Stop _lying to me!”  
  
_“Stop!”_ Alma screamed, as he yanked his hands from the water.   
  
Alma fell back, landing on the grass. Blinking his eyes open, his surroundings came into view.  
  
The courtyard. The trees. The hedge maze. Alma was back in the hedge maze.  
  
Somewhat disoriented, Alma tried to get up. The tease was fluttering by, motions hysterical-  
  
Alma stilled, as he felt something slither over his legs.  
  
Turning, Alma looked over. He gasped, completely shocked as he saw what the dark, serpent-like tendrils wrapping around his ankles.  
  
Alma panicked, and he tried to pull himself out of their grasp. The tendrils only tightened as a horrid _hissing_ noise could be heard from them. They rippled against Alma’s attempts to move, with the vines continuing to coil about Alma’s limbs. They hissed, the sound growing louder as Alma struggled.  
  
Scooting back, Alma hurriedly tried to get away from the inky tendrils; he managed to pull himself back quickly enough that he was able to slide out of the their grasp, his shoes catching as he tried to tug his feet free. Quickly, Alma kicked them off, distracting the tendrils as he freed himself.  
  
Alma scrambled to his feet and broke into a run. He almost tripped, the sound of the hisses echoing behind him. But Alma pushed himself to keep going. He needed to get away from so trees, and out of that courtyard – he needed to _run_.  
  
There was the sound of something ripping in the earth, like stone cracking apart from the inside out. It began as a low rumble, but quickly began to crescendo into a deafening sound.  
  
Beneath the path, something pushed upward. A rippled formed as something moved beneath the ground.  
  
It went after Alma.  
  
Alma didn’t look back as he ran. He was too afraid to. Alma could _hear _the cracking of the path behind him and he knew he was being chased.   
  
Adrenaline flooding his veins, Alma fled down the path, leaving the courtyard as he entered back into the winding formation of the maze. A twist, a turn – Alma kept praying that if he made enough turns, he could lose whatever it was that was after him.  
  
But the crackling continued, and Alma knew that something was still after him.  
  
Legs burning, Alma _tried_ to run faster…  
  
_“…Stay…”  
  
“…Just stay here….”  
  
“…You weren’t meant for the light…”_  
  
_‘Shut up!’_ Alma wanted to scream. _‘Just _shut up_!’_  
  
Faster. Alma was trying to make himself run faster, turning sharply as he rounded another corner…  
  
_“…Just stay here with us…”  
  
“…Stay here…”  
  
_Desperately, Alma tried to ignore the voices. The whispers. The hisses. He had to ignore them. He had to keep _running-_  
  
Alma’s foot caught over a sharp stone, the bare sole of his foot scraping against it. Grimacing, Alma lost his balance, skidding to a stop as he plummeted onto the path. He immediately attempted to push himself up, but he collapsed once more, his body weak to exhaustion and his hands searing in pain.   
  
Already, the rumbling in the earth was growing louder-  
  
There was a loud _crack_, as a slab of sharp stone broke through the earth in front of Alma. He jumped, eyes wide as he tried to scoot back – but another slab broke through as well – this time behind him.  
  
Another slab of stone, then another – they were jutting out of the earth like shields of iron and obsidian, unbreakable and unyielding. The pushed out in angles, forcing Alma low to the ground as he attempted to avoid getting struck by them – just before the terrifying realization struck Alma in the face.  
  
The stone slabs were trapping him.  
  
Left, right, front, back – the slabs had encircled Alma, angling so they even extended over him. He was forced to remain on the ground, unable to stand that the slabs continued to pile over him, stone layering over stone until not a crack outside could be seen.  
  
“Stop!” Alma shouted. “Stop, I need to get out!”  
  
His words were in vain, as the stone prison completed its formation. There was no a speckle of light that trickled in, as Alma was completely shut into darkness, unable to move as the voices continued to whisper all around him.  
  
_“…You’ll never leave now…”  
  
“…You’re where you belong…”  
  
“…Stay here forever…”  
  
_“Let me out!” Alma continued to shout, as he tried to bang against the stone slabs. “Let me _out_!”  
  
Alma continued to shout. He continued to scream, so much that his throat soon felt as though it were on fire. He banged until his hands felt bruised, and he shouted until his head was beginning to pound. Alma shouted and cried out, for someone – _anyone_ – to let him out.  
  
But no one came, and the voices continued.  
  
Alma tried once more to call for help, his eyes burning with tears. “Let me out!” Alma begged, words growing hoarse as he was quickly losing his energy. “Just…just let me _out-_“  
  
His words cracked, as a choked sob escaped him. “Let me…”  
  
Alma could barely finish. He was so tired, and he felt so _dizzy_. His head was oddly light, and his consciousness was muddle, foggy, and hazed. As Alma breathed, he could feel himself straining, the air oddly thin…  
  
Air. He didn’t have enough air.  
  
The screaming. Alma had screamed so much, that he hadn’t even thought about trying to preserve the small amount of air that he had.   
  
Dread filled Alma, though it was diluted with disorientation and wear. In the darkness, he tried one final time to push against the slabs of stone, but was unsuccessful, his muscles too weak and his body heavy. _‘Someone…’_  
  
Alma could feel himself fall onto his side, his body unable to support itself. Eyelids heavy, Alma strained to keep them open, his lungs struggling as the air around him continued to thin out. _‘I can’t…’_  
  
In the distance, Alma thought he head something. A whisper? No. No, it sounded like something…like someone…  
  
Was someone calling his name?  
  
Alma couldn’t think clearly anymore. He was too tired, and too exhausted. His head was spinning, and he felt so nauseous. If only he closed his eyes for a bit…  
  
_“Alma…!”_  
  
A voice. In the distance, he thought he heard a voice again. It was a little louder, but Alma didn’t have it in him to respond. He was so tired. He was just so _tired…_  
  
_“Alma!”_  
  
Unable to stay awake any longer, Alma’s consciousness slipped away into the darkness, just as he heard the sound of the stone slabs moving.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Darkness…  
  
There was only darkness, but he could feel someone’s arms around him…  
  
Carried. He was being carried somewhere…  
  
_Darkness.  
  
Alma could feel his consciousness drift in and out of coherency, as his world remained an inky void of nothingness. He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t speak. His body was limp as his mind stirred, with it slowly attempting to awaken from a cold, dark sleep.  
  
At first, Alma couldn’t remember what happened. He couldn’t remember, but his body ached.  
  
It was the first sign of consciousness; the soreness in his limbs and the burning in his muscles. His hands were particularly tender, the palms raw and sensitive as he felt something wrapped around them.   
  
_‘Bandages…?’_ Alma realized, as he shifted his body slightly. A wave of pain befell him, and he immediately kept his eyes shut, his head rolling back onto the plush pillow as his body rested on the bed.  
  
A bed. He was on a bed.  
  
A small groan escaping him, Alma tried to blink his eyes open. His vision blurred as his surroundings gradually came into focus: a familiar canopy with velvet curtains, dark walls, candles lit all around him…  
  
His room. His room in the Noah’s castle.  
  
_‘What…’_ Alma began to wonder, as he tried to push himself up. He winced as his hands stung, the palms wrapped in cloth. Alma could also see he was in his chiton from earlier, the hem of it torn and the silk soiled.  
  
There was a small pause, before the memories of the maze came flooding back to Alma.   
  
The voices. The changing paths. The vine-like tendrils, and the slabs of stone…  
  
Alarm filling Alma, he realized that he had no idea what had happened.  
  
“Awake?”  
  
Alma looked over, startled to realize that he wasn’t alone. His eyes flashed over to near the door, where he quickly met a pair of molten-colored irises.  
  
Relief washed over Alma as soon as he saw it was Tyki.  
  
“Tyki,” Alma said, a warm comfort filling his insides as soon as he spoke the Noah’s name. He tried to get up, as he continued. “Tyki, I-“  
  
“Don’t.”  
  
Alma stopped. He blinked, a confused look appearing in his eyes. “What?”  
  
Tyki’s eyes met Alma’s, his gaze unblinking. He had been leaning against the door, arms crossed as his body slouched against the door somewhat languidly. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as usual, but several strands fell in front of his face, obscuring his expression slightly.  
  
However, as Alma looked he noticed several details that seemed odd: the thin, hard line that Tyki’s mouth was pressed into, the tension he seemed to hold in his jaw. The coldness that burned in his eyes – so much that it was _scalding_…  
  
He looked angry.  
  
Alma didn’t speak right away. He couldn’t. There was just something so _jarring_ about how Tyki appeared in that moment; he was often so informal and at ease. Even when they had first met, Tyki had been oddly loose in his mannerisms. He had never seemed…  
  
Tyki’s eyes shifted as he looked up a bit more. His eyes never once left Alma though, his gaze sharp like a pair of knives.  
  
“Did you like the maze?” Tyki asked, voice oddly calm.  
  
Alma could feel his body stiffen, the question piercing him like a needle. He remained still, still seated on the bed as he felt himself freeze up, unable to answer or even react.  
  
Seeing this, Tyki pushed himself off the door. He took several steps near where Alma was, before he stopped just beside the bed. Somewhat roughly, Tyki grabbed a chair from beside the nightstand, slamming it so that the back of it was pressed against the edge of the bed. Sitting in it backwards, Tyki folded his arms on the back of the chair, resting his chin in his elbows as he eyed Alma expectantly.  
  
“So tell me,” Tyki said, words low and eerily frosty. “_Did_ you like it?”  
  
Alma swallowed. There was an unpleasant chill to Tyki’s words – one that reminded Alma of ice. Taking a shaky breath, Alma tried to speak.  
  
“Tyki,” Alma began to say, his words holding the slightest tremor. “Tyki, I’m…I’m sorry-“  
  
“Oh?” Tyki asked, as he tilted his head to the side. “And what are you sorry _for_?”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, and he averted his gaze. A weight of shame collapsed onto him, and the thought of looking Tyki in the eye was suddenly a feat that seemed all too impossible. “I…”  
  
Throat drying, Alma found himself unable to speak. _‘Just explain it to him,’_ a small voice begged within Alma’s thoughts. _‘Just explain what happened!’_  
  
Tyki’s hand balled into a fist. He eyed Alma a moment longer, the silence looming heavily between them.  
  
Then, something snapped.  
  
Gripping the back of the chair, Tyki pushed himself up abruptly. The motion was a sharp, jarring one – vicious and without any abandon. Tyki’s knuckles whitened, his grip on the back of the chair so rough that the sound of wood crackling could be heard.  
  
Without warning, Tyki threw the chair at the wall.  
  
Alma jumped, eyes wide. He nearly fell back as he tried to scoot back, pushing himself back against the headboard. He had never seen Tyki act like this. He had never seen Tyki so _angry-_  
  
Swiftly, Tyki turned to Alma. His muscles were tense, and his whole body rigid; his hands were still balled into fists, and his eyes dark. “I asked you to promise _one_ thing,” Tyki seethed, words low. “One promise. One promise to never go into the maze…“  
  
Alma’s mouth hung open. Scrambling for the words, he tried to speak. “Tyki, it wasn’t like that-“  
  
“Just what was it?” Tyki demanded. “Tell me – what was it that was so tempting about it that you felt the need to _break your word_?”  
  
Alma winced. The accusation was acidic in his ears as the guilt of his broken promise once more began to fester.   
  
“I just,” Alma began to say, as he yet again broke eye contact. “I…Road told me there was an ark door inside the maze. She…she told me it led to the above realms-“  
  
Alma broke off, his voice unexpectedly cracking as his emotions quickly began to turn unstable. Shallowly, he took a breath in an attempt to keep himself steady. “I just thought-“  
  
“That you could escape?” Tyki asked, before a grin stretched across his face. It was no playful expression though, with a cruel and hardened gleam dancing in his eyes. “That you could somehow use such a door to run back to your family, and leave this cold, dark place behind?”  
  
Alma looked up, his blue eyes stunned by the words. He shook his head, before he could feel his words tumble out messily.  
  
“No, I – I was coming _back_!” Alma tried to explain, speech ineloquent at best. “I did try to leave at first, but it was a mistake, and I _swear_ I was coming back-!”  
  
Tyki laughed. It was a bitter sound, hollow and dry. It wasn’t like how Tyki normally laughed.   
  
“You _really_ are something, you know that?” Tyki spoke, tone accusatory. “You actually expect me to believe you? That you were _actually_ going to rush back here?”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as his words caught in his throat. He could only stare at Tyki, unable to speak as his heart twisted – almost as though a claw were tearing it apart from the inside out.  
  
Tyki chuckled again, with not a hint of amusement to be detected. “I have to admit, I’m a little impressed – you managed to pull one over me. Wisely will never let me hear the end of it,” he said, before his sharp gaze peered into Alma’s eyes. “Serves me right, I guess. Should have realized you were just as manipulative as the rest of your family.”  
  
The words were a slap to Alma, stunning him so much that he couldn’t think of how to respond. He only continued to stare back at Tyki, eyes hot as he tried to think of something to say – of _anything_ to say…  
  
But again, no words came from Alma’s lips, his chest tight and his breaths shallow.  
  
Taking a step away from the bed, Tyki sighed. “What a waste. A broken word for some damn door you never would have been able to find,” he murmured.  
  
Alma blinked, vision bleary. Chest shuddering, he tried to speak. “W…What…?”  
  
“Oh, Road left out that part? The ark doors can only be summoned by the Noah. Or the marked deity, Walker,” Tyki noted, before he grinned at Alma. “Otherwise, that maze is just a torture chamber for anyone stupid enough to go inside.”  
  
Alma stilled, as Tyki’s explanation slammed into him. _‘There…there was no way…’_  
  
Turning, Tyki started toward the door. Before he did, he tossed something back onto the bed where Alma still was. “That came for you, by the way – Road had it.”  
  
Perplexed, Alma looked over on the bed, his eyes immediately landing on the small, silvery object.  
  
A coin. A message.  
  
A message from his family.  
  
Shock filling Alma, he looked back to where Tyki was. However, Tyki had just phased through the door disappearing from sight.  
  
Inside, Alma could feel something snap.  
  
“Tyki!” Alma shouted, as he scrambled off the bed. He ran, hurrying to the door of his bedroom as he tore it open, trying to catch Tyki before he left. “Tyki, please _wait_-!”  
  
There was a sharp _yank_ on Alma’s left ankle, pulling him back the second he tried to run out of his bedroom. He had only just made it outside the door before he was tugged back, falling to the ground from whatever had snagged him. Confused, Alma looked back, not sure what had caused him to fall-  
  
On his left ankle, the golden band had been placed back on it.  
  
Alma tried to pull his leg away from the bedroom, but the golden band illuminated, the sound of invisible chains being tugged as they echoed in Alma’s ears.   
  
Stomach dropping, Alma turned, as he called after Tyki. “Tyki!” Alma shouted, voice cracking as hot tears began to well in his eyes. “_Tyki_!”  
  
His words echoed into the corridor, desperate and pleading. However, it was no use – when Alma looked, Tyki was nowhere to be seen. The hallway was empty. Dark, and quiet…there was not a trace of anyone around. Alma was alone.  
  
Alone.  
  
A thick sob fell from Alma’s lips, as he remained on the ground. His vision blurred, colors swirling together before he broke down entirely, tears streaming down his face as pathetic, broken cries poured from his lungs.  
  
“I…I’m sorry…” Alma choked, the words weak and barely audible. “I…I’m so _sorry_…”  
  
There was no one there to listen.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had this chapter in my head for such a long time - I can’t even begin to describe how it feels to finally have it out. I think this scene in the maze was one of the first scenes I really envisioned in this AU; I had always intended for Alma to end up in there. It’s a really psychological scene (which, I don’t know, I have a things for those apparently?), and a lot is revealed in it - though, Alma hasn’t exactly grasped that. A lot happened, so a lot of things won’t necessarily click for a bit. He’s distraught by what he’s done, and the fact that he essentially betrayed Tyki.
> 
> Which, I really wanted Alma to be the one to make that betrayal. He’s been a bit passive in this AU and something of a damsel in distress, and I felt like for him to be betrayed would have been predictable. Tyki is less so, I think because Tyki isn’t necessarily a character who comes off as vulnerable. He is though, and what Alma did was pretty terrible; Tyki isn’t someone who takes broken promises and betrayal lightly. Especially considering the limb he went on for Alma and to give him any ounce of freedom he could. (Honestly, Tyki was inspirited by Hades in this AU - but he was also inspired by Eros from the story “Eros and Psyche.” There’s also some elements of “Theseus and the Minotaur” in this chapter, so really I was just on a Greek lore high XD)
> 
> That being said, placing the anklet back on Alma was a really painful thing to do - especially since Tyki was the one who had to do it in this situation (which, I can say that it wasn’t a pleasant experience for Tyki at all, but because of what Alma did there was no getting around it - not without Tyki essentially saying “fuck you” to his family, and that just wasn’t going to happen).
> 
> There’s going to be a lot of angst following this. That honeymoon phase Tyki and Alma were in is pretty much ruined at this point, as is their trust in general. And now that Alma’s got the binding on, he can’t even leave his room - which is really going to bring back that sense of what a prisoner he actually is. >.<
> 
> It was a definitely a loaded chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. Thank you for reading!


	24. Mark of Sin

Everything was falling apart.  
  
Bak didn’t know how else to describe it. In the span of six short weeks, his whole life had flipped about, with nothing but one disaster after the next. His younger brother was still missing, having vanished into the Underworld. The barrier was not yet restored, with his parents having pulled away. More akuma had been found, trickling into the mortal realm like a wretched infestation…  
  
Bak wasn’t sure how to process any of it.  
  
Exhaling, Bak ran his hands over his face, his fingers tracing through his blonde locks. He remained seated at a desk in the citadel library; towering bookshelves stretched high above him as they spiraled up toward the glass dome of the ceiling. The space was vast, with the library taking up several floors; a silver staircase twisted up into the center of the room, with a path stretching out onto each floor. Crystal railing encircled each level, with the shelves breaking off into nooks and alcoves, illuminated by crystalline lights.   
  
The library was exquisite. It was a place to learn, to study, to seek knowledge. To seek answers.  
  
Bak needed answers. He needed answers, but he couldn’t find them.  
  
Leaning onto his elbow, Bak glanced down. Sprawled out all along the desks were old texts and documents, many of which were in dead languages. Pages were marked, notes were made – but overall, the words offered little to Bak. They were scribbles on paper at best.  
  
He felt useless.  
  
A heavy weight befell Bak’s shoulders, as he glanced over at the two candles he had lit on the desk. Already, they had melted halfway down – a testament to how long he had holed himself up in the library. Bak was not even sure how many hours had passed, but he knew that he had been in the library the majority of the day. He had been there ever since he heard word of his parents’ refusal to carry out their duties – to _listen_ to the Order.  
  
Bak never thought he would have witnessed such a thing.  
  
Perhaps, Bak should not have been surprised. After all, it had been clear that his parents’ grief was overwhelming; they had left the Acropolis so swiftly after the failed negotiation attempt with the Noah. Not long after, the Order had noticed strange happenings in the mortal realm: cold airs that promised of an early winter, hardened earth and dying crops…  
  
Bak’s parents had never forsaken their duties before. Now, they were. And they would continue to do so until the Order did something about retrieving Alma.  
  
_‘This is a disaster,’_ Bak thought, as he glanced back at the documents he had been sifting through. Legal bindings. Oaths. _Blood contracts_. Alma had been taken to the Underworld since he had supposedly signed a blood contract – a contract that Sheril had even brought to the Order as evidence. Bak had seen it with his own two eyes. He had seen it with Alma’s _signature…_  
  
_Sheril eyed the Changs, as he nodded toward the contract he had just revealed to them in the meeting hall. “You see his signature,” Sheril said, eyes gleaming. “A blood signature can’t be written unless someone is willing.”_  
  
Bak frowned. Willing. Sheril had said someone would need to be willing, but this was _Alma_. Bak knew that Alma wanted to venture out and see more; his younger brother had always been so wistful about it, clinging to Bak the second he would come home to visit and begging him to allow Alma to go with him. Thinking back, Bak felt guilty; Alma had only ever wanted to see other places, and Bak had never thought to try harder to convince their parents otherwise. Alma had just been a curiously sweet but nagging little brother, and Bak…  
  
Bak didn’t know.   
  
_‘It just doesn’t make sense,’_ Bak thought, as he rubbed his temple. _‘Even if Alma was willing to go somewhere, he wouldn’t have willingly gone to the _Underworld_. He would never go to somewhere so…’  
  
_Cold. Isolated. _Dark_. Alma had never liked the dark – as a child, he had always been frightened of it.  
  
“Bak?”  
  
Bak’s head shot up, expression startled by the voice. He stood up swiftly, the chair clattering as it was pushed back. Bak whirled around to face whoever it was-  
  
It was Allen.  
  
Surprise filled Bak, and he collected himself. Quickly, he glanced around the library, making sure no one was around before he returned his attention to Allen.   
  
“Where have you been?” Bak asked, keeping his voice low. “You went to deliver that message to Alma _three_ days ago – what happened? Were you able to find him?”  
  
Allen sighed, his golden golem hovering beside him. “I’m sorry – before I could return to the Acropolis Timcanpy received a message – I was instructed to scout several areas where some more akuma were seen,” Allen explained, as he nodded over to Timcanpy. “It kept me away, so I didn’t make it back until just now.”  
  
Bak released a breath. “And..?” he prompted, meeting Allen’s silvery gaze.  
  
Allen paused. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. The Noah wouldn’t allow me to see Alma,” Alma admitted, as he looked back up. “However…one of the Noah – Tyki – he took the message. He said he’d…deal with it. As to what he meant by that, I can’t say.”  
  
Hearing this, Bak’s lips pressed into a thin line. An unpleasant, leaden feeling pulled down into his stomach, his eyes pooling with disappointment.  
  
Bak averted his gaze. “I see…”  
  
Allen watched. He could see the pain in Bak, and the worry that lined every feature in his face. A sympathetic glimmer passing over Allen’s expression, he spoke gently. “I know you’re worried about him…I just wish I could have spoken to him for you.”  
  
Bak shook his head. “No…no, you did what you could,” he acknowledged, before he turned back to Allen. “Thank you – even if you couldn’t get the message to him personally, you definitely came closer than I ever could have tried.”  
  
“To be fair, it’s not an easy place to navigate,” Allen admitted. “Every time I go there…it’s difficult. Sometimes, the Underworld just draws me in…”  
  
Bak turned, as he looked at Allen questioningly. “Draws you in…?”  
  
Allen’s attention shifted, as he glanced toward his arm. In the candlelight, it looked especially charred, almost as though it were scales of burnt garnets and obsidian. “The dark matter I’m infected with is mostly to blame for that,” Allen explained. “The thing is that dark matter stems from the Underworld – it’s linked to there. And every time I go to the Underworld…I can feel that part of me yearning to stay there.”  
  
As Allen spoke this, his eyes grew distant, and his voice weary. Gaze still somewhat averted, the flickering of the candle’s flame danced in his eyes, causing the irises to look like starlight. “It’s just another reminder that I’m connected to that realm. Not so much that I have to be there…but it’s not easy. Feeling that pull.”  
  
To this, Bak didn’t say anything at first. His attention had also moved to the candles, as the white wax dripped down, the wick burning up as the seconds ticked by. _‘A pull…’_  
  
A small frown appeared on Bak’s face, as a half-formed thought nudged the back of his mind. Without even understanding what he was thinking, Bak spoke. “So…even if you consciously don’t want to be there, a part of you does…”  
  
Allen nodded. “It does,” he confirmed, as he turned back to Bak. “I’m sorry – I’m sure this is probably something you don’t need to worry about with all that you’re already dealing with.”  
  
Bak remained quiet, his thoughts churning. Gradually, they began to form themselves into coherent ideas, with one abruptly slicing into the forefront of Bak’s mind.  
  
“No…” Bak said, words quiet as something slowly appeared to dawn on him. “No, this…this is _exactly_ what I needed to hear.”  
  
Allen looked at Bak, somewhat perplexed. “What?”  
  
Bak didn’t answer, as he suddenly moved passed Allen. He hurried through the library, ignoring Allen’s confused calls as he broke into a ran.   
  
Reaching the exit of the library, Bak rushed out into the corridor. His thoughts raced as they spiraled out of control – with one thought in particular beginning to consume him.  
  
It was ludicrous. It was absolutely _ludicrous_. Bak almost wanted to slap himself for even thinking such a thing – for losing himself so much that he was starting to entertain wretchedly _crazy_ notions.  
  
Yet, Bak couldn’t erase it. He couldn’t erase what had slipped into his mind, a seed that had been planted and that was now quickly sprouting.  
  
He had to know. He had to ask.  
  
Bak rushed through the corridors of the citadel. They appeared oddly empty, the ceilings high and Bak’s footsteps echoing against the silver-stained walls. Bak didn’t care about any of that; he only cared about finding answers. Answers that he _needed_.  
  
Eventually, Bak came to his destination – the wing where his grandfather often was. Granted, Bak had no idea if Zuu would be present in that moment, but it was likely. His grandfather had a study he often retreated to in the evenings, and if Bak was lucky, he would surely catch him.  
  
Coming to a tall door, Bak knocked. He did so loudly – more than he normally would. However, Bak couldn’t hold back; there was too much of an urgency boiling in his veins, the need he had a dire one.  
  
The door opened, revealing Zuu.  
  
Zuu looked at Bak, somewhat surprised. Before the older deity could even speak Bak hurried into the room.  
  
“Bak?” Zuu asked, as he shut the door behind him. “Bak, what is it?”  
  
Bak turned, as he looked at his grandfather. Having just stopped running, he was catching his breath; he still forced himself to speak regardless. “I need to know,” Bak said. “I need to know what happened eleven years ago – what happened with the akuma attack.”  
  
Somewhat taken aback, Zuu didn’t answer right away. He was evidently caught off guard by Bak’s demands, and quickly attempted to compose himself. “Bak…Bak, we’ve already told you what happened.”  
  
Bak shook his head. “No. No, I _know_ you know something else,” he said, words sharper than normal, as he looked his grandfather in the eye. “So I need you to tell me. I need you to tell me the truth about what happened, and why you went there after the attack.”  
  
Zuu looked at Bak a bit longer. For a moment, he said nothing.  
  
Finally, Bak exhaled. “Alright then.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
During dinner, Tyki was quiet.  
  
It wasn’t completely abnormal; there had been nights before where Tyki was not as chatty, opting for being more a spectator of his family’s conversations rather than a participant. He would listen to their exchanges, more so for his own amusement than anything else, with an occasional glint in his eye or quirk of the lips.  
  
Tyki didn’t even have that much to give. Not with how distant he was.  
  
There was a clatter, as the twins got into some altercation at the dinner table. It was but a dull buzz in Tyki’s ears, the details of their childish bickering muddled and hazed.  
  
Across the table, Road looked over at Tyki. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, gaze perceptive.  
  
Road scraped her fork against her plate. “Is our guest ever joining us for dinner again?” she asked, her tone strangely light as she spoke to no one in particular. “It’s almost started to feel odd with him being absent the last few days.”  
  
“You mean it’s started to feel _normal_ again,” Wisely clipped.   
  
Tyki’s eyes shifted up, as his attention landed on both Road and Wisely. However, he said nothing as he resumed his disengaged demeanor.  
  
“We’re keeping him confined for however long we need to,” Sheril said. “It seems we must considering how _lax _some of his treatment became.”  
  
As Sheril said this last part, his eyes wandered over to where Tyki was – but again, Tyki appeared to not even be paying attention.  
  
“It’s a bit unfortunate with the Erebus coming up tomorrow,” Road pointed out, as she twirled her fork around. “Are we going to bar him from that as well?”  
  
Sheril paused, before he looked over at the Earl. “It depends on what Lord Millennium thinks – I don’t think we should bother. The Chang certainly doesn’t deserve to attend.”  
  
Everyone else kept quiet, as their attention gravitated toward the Millennium Earl. Up until this point, the Earl hadn’t commented much on the matter, he supported the idea that Alma were to be confined to his room due to his impertinent and _reckless_ behavior.   
  
When the Earl spoke, his tone was strangely amiable – gracious, even.   
  
“Oh, we can let the Moonflower attend for a few hours,” the Earl said, as he smiled at everyone else. “Simply keep an eye on him, and make sure his binding doesn’t permit him to wander off elsewhere.”  
  
As soon as the word _binding_ was spoken, Tyki stilled. His eyes turned dark, a frosty look flickering in his eyes.  
  
Somewhat abruptly, Tyki stood. A few of the Noah appeared perplexed, but already Tyki had already excused himself.  
  
Fiidora looked over, having been seated next to Tyki. “Where are you heading?”  
  
“Out for a bit,” Tyki answered. “Just have to stretch my legs.”  
  
No one else said anything, and Tyki swiftly departed the dining hall, his body dissolving as he walked through the doors.   
  
Tyki continued, as he headed down the hall. Despite having left his family, he kept his pace brisk. He wandered through the halls and down the corridors, the shadows stretching high as the golden torches flickered.  
  
_“Tyki, please wait-!”_  
  
A memory threatened to trickle into his consciousness. Forcefully, Tyki shoved the thought aside. He didn’t need to think about what had happened. He didn’t need to concern himself with those memories. _‘Flower Boy only brought it onto himself anyways…’_  
  
One promise. Tyki had only asked Alma to keep _one promise_: a promise to stay out of the maze. To never go inside, and to keep away from it.  
  
Alma hadn’t lasted a day without his binding before he had done just that. He had gone inside, too tempted by the thought of returning to the upper world. Too tempted to _escape_…  
  
_He couldn’t find him. Damn it, Tyki _couldn’t find him_. He was running, turning through the maze as it twisted and contorted itself into dead ends and circles. Tyki had always navigated the maze with ease; all of the Noah were able to. However, the maze was deadly to strangers, going as far as to conceal them from sight, breaking them down to nothing as it plucked apart their fears, their thoughts…  
  
Why? Why hadn’t Alma _listened_?  
  
Tyki didn’t have time to focus on such questions now. He could only run, desperate to find some sign of Alma. “Alma!”  
  
There was no response, as Tyki’s words carried into the cold, quiet air. He ran faster through the hedge maze, the path gradually turning to rubble and debris-  
  
Tyki stopped, just as he turned. Up ahead there was a series of stone slabs, pressing against one another as though they had trapped something – _someone_ – inside.  
  
Cursing, Tyki ran to the slabs. Nearby, he could see a tease fluttering by frantically. “Alma!”  
  
There was no response, and Tyki rushed to move the slabs. He waved his hand, pulling back as though he were yanking some invisible force; the slabs sparked with a violet light. They shifted, rumbling against one another as several of them began to sink back into the earth.  
  
One of the slabs slunk into the ground, and Alma fell out, having been leaning against it.  
  
Tyki caught Alma, his body limp and still. His skin was pale, his clothing torn and smeared with dirt. His hands were cracked with dry blisters and bloody…  
  
Tyki realized that Alma wasn’t breathing.  
  
_Alma had been close to dead when Tyki found him.   
  
It had been a miracle that Alma survived at all. While carrying Alma back to his room, Tyki could eventually feel Alma’s breathing return, though it had been shallow, strained, and weak. Fragile. Delicate. So pathetically, wretchedly _delicate…_  
  
All of that suffering, only because Alma wanted to escape.  
  
As he thought about it, a bitter laugh tickled Tyki’s insides. He had truly been played a fool in the situation, pitying Alma and giving him what leeway he could. Falling for those sad puppy eyes and that innocent little smile…  
  
Of course. Of course, Alma would have tried to escape. Of course, Alma would have never wanted to stay in the darkness. Not for anything. Not for _anyone_.  
  
Tyki’s fist balled, as he continued to walk, thoughts churning relentlessly. He never took well to broken words, and he never took well to betrayal. As dark and cunning as the Noah were, oaths and promises were taken gravely; they were not things to be trifled with, and any oath was also carefully articulated. To have had a promise broken by another deity, when Tyki had never _once _dared to break his…  
  
No, Tyki never took well to broken promises. But more so than that, he never took well to losing things he cared for. Perhaps, that was what angered him so much.  
  
Eventually, Tyki stopped walking; he had come to a pair of silvery-tinted glass doors, and in a beat he realized where he was.  
  
The greenhouse.  
  
Tyki wavered for a moment, as he stared at the doors. Before he could stop himself, a pair of blue eyes flashed through his thoughts.  
  
“Thought I’d find you here.”  
  
Tyki turned, spotting Road. She was standing just behind him, still in her lilac dress from dinner as she looked at Tyki with a knowing gaze.   
  
“I wanted to come check on you,” Road said. “You _did_ leave pretty quickly…”  
  
Tyki shrugged, and turned back so that he was facing the glass doors. “I needed to walk. That’s all.”  
  
There was a shortness to how Tyki spoke, one that seemed a contrast to his usual tone. A little abrasive, and barely noticeable – enough that Road couldn’t ignore the small frown that tugged at her lips.  
  
Sighing, Road walked over to Tyki. She reached over, wrapping her arms around Tyki from his side, her arms only managing to reach his waist. “Tyki,” Road said. “I hope you’re not mad at me – I only wanted you to see how the Chang really is. It wasn’t fair for him to keep using you like that.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything at first, though he did not push Road away.  
  
“You really cut a close one,” Tyki finally said. “Lord Millennium wouldn’t have been too thrilled if you got him killed…”  
  
Road still held onto Tyki. She didn’t say anything, eyes distant.  
  
A few moments passed, and Road broke the silence. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you getting hurt again,” she said, her words oddly turning quiet. There was a strange tremor in her voice, too – a soft, cold, angry tremor. “I couldn’t stand it, so I needed you to _see_…”  
  
She trailed off, words melting into silence. The soundlessness between the two Noah loomed in the air.  
  
Taking his hand, Tyki wrapped and arm around Road’s shoulder.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Tyki reassured her. “It won’t happen again.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma had been trapped inside his room for three days and had not once been allowed to leave.  
  
Alma shifted his position, as he looked outside. He was curled up on the divan just beside the window, his eyes peering out into the darkness. The star-encrusted caverns, the strange, spiraling city in the distance…  
  
The hedge maze.  
  
There was a nauseous churning inside Alma’s stomach, his chest tightening as his eyes lingered on the maze. That maze that had been so dark and twisting, and so cruel and relentless. That very maze that had led Alma into a spiral, attacking him from every corner and drudging up the darkest parts of his memories…  
  
_The akuma loomed over Alma, not once letting him go. “Stop trying to run,” the akuma said, as it brought its face close to Alma’s. “You weren’t meant for the light….you belong here…”  
  
Alma struggled, as he tried to break free of the akuma’s grasp. “No,” he said, words shaky. “No, I don’t belong anywhere near you!”  
  
The akuma laughed, voice low and raspy. “Yes, you do,” it taunted, before it brought a bladed hand close to Alma’s face. “You know it, deep down. Even your parents do.”_  
  
As swiftly as the memory came, Alma shook his head, quickly repressing the memory. He brought his hands to his ears, blocking them as though that would somehow help him to better ignore the voice of the akuma.   
  
_‘It wasn’t real,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘It was the maze – it was toying with you!’_  
  
Alma told himself this, but inside something twisted. Something twisted and pulled, like a thread that was repeatedly being woven throughout his heart, attaching itself to some hidden truth that Alma had yet to unravel – to some hidden truth that Alma _didn’t_ want to unravel.  
  
_‘Stop thinking about it,’_ Alma attempted to repeat. _‘Stop…Tyki said it was…’  
  
Coldly, Tyki grinned at Alma. “That maze is just a torture chamber for anyone stupid enough to go inside.”_  
  
A stab of pain filled Alma. Alma hadn’t seen Tyki since he had awoken in his room three days ago. Alma hadn’t seen Tykin since then, and Tyki had been so _angry_…  
  
He had been so angry with Alma.  
  
Guiltily, Alma’s heart lurched. He longed for the Noah’s presence so terribly. The tender embraces. The gentle kisses. If only Tyki had given Alma a chance to _explain_…  
  
Alma’s eyes wandered over to his left ankle, where the golden anklet remained.  
  
Along the window frame, the two teases that Tyki had given Alma hovered. They lingered beside the cliffroses and wildflowers that Alma had caused to sprout along the window frame.  
  
One tease moved, as it fluttered onto Alma’s shoulder.  
  
Alma looked over at the tease. There was almost a small comfort it brought him, and Alma wanted to smile; however, he could not even do that much.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here,” Alma admitted, as he looked downward. “I was worried you’d be taken away after…”  
  
Alma didn’t finish his sentence, but the thought remained. He had expected for the teases to be taken away – something that would have only caused the loneliness Alma felt to be even more torturous. But for whatever reason, the teases had remained. Then, there was also…  
  
Looking over, Alma glanced over toward the bed. Beside the pillow, he could see the glittering of the necklace that Tyki had given him.  
  
A small _crack _could be felt inside Alma, and his eyes burned. Abruptly, he looked away from where the necklace was.  
  
A gentle knock broke the silence, and Alma quickly tried to collect himself. Taking a small, shaky breath, he spoke. “It’s open,” he said, words coming out in more of a stammer than they should have.  
  
The door opened, and Lala poked her head inside. She was a bit hesitant in her motions, careful and considerate – almost as though she were preparing to handle bits of broken glass.  
  
Taking a step into the room, Lala shut the door behind her. She carried a small tea tray with her and went to place it upon the nightstand.   
  
“I brought you some tea for tonight,” Lala said, as she glanced over at Alma. She offered him a gentle smile. “It’s chamomile, so it should help you sleep well.”  
  
There was a kindness in her words – one that was almost able to pull a small smile onto Alma’s lips. However, his heart was leaden, and he could only nod in appreciation. “Thanks.”  
  
Lala didn’t say anything more, as she pushed the tea tray toward the back of the nightstand. Because it was a smaller one, it fit beside the dinner tray that Lala would need to take back downstairs. But, as Lala looked, she noticed that the food had only been picked at.  
  
Looking back at Alma, a hint of concern lingered in her eyes. “Alma, you barely ate anything.”   
  
Alma turned his face back toward Lala. There was an apologetic look in his eyes, and he averted his gaze guiltily. “Sorry, I just…wasn’t that hungry.”  
  
Lala sighed. It was no secret that Alma had been upset the last three days; when Lala had first seen him after the incident with the maze, Alma had been a complete wreck. He hadn’t been able to speak, and hadn’t wanted to see anyone, once more locking his doors with vines and even preventing Lala from being able to check on him at first.  
  
By the next day, Alma’s door had been unlocked, and Lala had been able to attend to Alma, initially quiet and unresponsive. It hadn’t been like Alma at all. Alma had just become so distant, and _withdrawn_…  
  
Not yet taking the dinner tray, Lala spoke. “Would you like me to leave this with you tonight?” she asked, referencing the tray. “You might get hungry later, and I could come get it in the morning.”  
  
Alma paused. He was inclined to refuse, as he doubted that he would be able to eat much of anything anytime soon. However, as soon as Alma looked back at Lala, he hesitated; he could see the worry that lined her features, and once more, a wave of guilt washed over him.  
  
Nodding, Alma conceded. “Okay.”  
  
Lala smiled, appearing relieved. “Good,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning – I might come a little earlier than normal, if that’s alright. Since the Erebus is taking place, I’ll probably have to assist with some of the other servants in preparing for that…”  
  
Alma stilled as Lala said this, his mind drawing a blank. Too vividly, he recalled Tyki what Tyki had said to him several days ago.  
  
_“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you at the Erebus. I want you to save at least one dance for me.”_  
  
Taking a slightly sharp breath, Alma nodded, as he looked back toward the window. “Right,” he said, realizing that the Erebus was _tomorrow_. It was tomorrow, and Alma was still going to be trapped in his room. He would be trapped there, with no way into the hall, into the greenhouse – and most certainly not to wherever the Erebus would be taking place.  
  
Alma realized that he had promised Tyki he’d save a dance for him – and that it would be one more promise broken.  
  
Noticing the way Alma had shifted, Lala realized that she must have made some sort of folly. Walking to where Alma was, she down on the edge of the bed beside the divan.  
  
“How are your hands today?” she asked, in a clear attempt to change the subject. “They looked like they were really starting to heal up – are they feeling any better?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he glanced at his hands. He had been able to take off the bandages that morning, with the blisters having finally started to heal. There were still a few dry patches and scabs, but for the most part, the skin was finally returning to normal.  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah…the salve that was given to me is really helping,” Alma answered.  
  
Lala smiled. “Good! I’m glad they’re finally better.”  
  
Again, Alma tried to smile in response, but he found himself unable to. It was as though something was just pulling him _down_, his body tired and his mind weary. Alma simply didn’t have the energy, he didn’t have that _spark…_  
  
He just didn’t have it in him. Not anymore.  
  
Lala didn’t say anything at first. Alma’s reactions were minimal, and Lala found herself torn between letting Alma be or remaining a bit longer.   
  
Releasing a small breath, Lala spoke again. “I probably should leave for now,” she offered, as she stood back up. “But you can call for me if you need anything.”  
  
As soon as Lala said this, Alma turned somewhat abruptly. “Wait,” he started, the words tumbling out in a rush.   
  
Lala paused, eyes inquiring.  
  
Alma hesitated, as though he were suddenly debating on continuing with whatever it was that he was about to say. He forced himself to continue though.   
  
“Have…have you seen Tyki at all?” Alma asked. There was a nervous edge to the way he spoke, almost as though he were afraid to know the answer. “I…I haven’t seen him since…”  
  
Alma trailed off, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue, but lingering in his mind: _‘…Since I went into the maze…’_  
  
Lala didn’t answer at first. She looked uncertain as to how to respond, which worried Alma – had Lala spoken to Tyki after all? Did she know something that Alma didn’t?  
  
Before Alma could press further, Lala shook her head. “No…no, I haven’t spoken him to him since three days ago,” Lala admitted. “I did see him once yesterday, but…he didn’t seem like he wanted to speak to anyone.”  
  
As Lala said this, Alma could feel a heavy weight of disappointment drape over his shoulders. He looked off to the side, with his heart feeling as though it were close to crumbling.  
  
Alma couldn’t hold back. “He’s never going to speak to me again,” he said, the words breaking from his lungs like a pained, pitiful admission. “He’s…he was so _angry_ at me, and he probably _hates_ me now-“  
  
There was an annoyingly sharp _crack_ in Alma’s voice, causing him to falter. It was an uncontrollable sound, one that fractured Alma’s composure against his will; his chest felt as brittle as a dry leaf among of the wind, and his eyes were hot. So pathetically, unbearably _hot_.  
  
Alma had thought he was beyond anymore tears, but it seemed he was mistaken.  
  
There was a pitying look in Lala’s one good eye, as she could see how close Alma was to breaking. She approached Alma, sitting on the other end of the divan, and somewhat forwardly, she took one of Alma’s hands.  
  
“Alma,” she began to say, words gentle. “I…I don’t think Lord Tyki _hates _you…”  
  
Alma could feel his other hand ball into a fist as Lala said this, a rush of denial already beginning to flood him. “But-“  
  
“I don’t think he _does_,” Lala tried to emphasize. “He’s…very angry, and maybe he just needs time. He hasn’t changed his orders for me to make sure you’re given food from the above realms, and he still has allowed for the teases to stay here…”  
  
Lala listed her evidence for her rationale, her hands still holding onto Alma’s. “I don’t even think Lord Tyki wanted to put that binding back on you,” she then admitted, as she glanced up at Alma. “After you…went into the maze, there was no way the other Noah would accept anything else. He might have been ordered to do it.”  
  
Alma chewed the inside of his cheek, as he looked away. There was an earnest way to how Lala spoke, and it almost made her words convincing enough to believe. And Alma _wanted_ to believe them. More than anything, he wanted to believe that Tyki didn’t hate him, and that Tyki hadn’t wanted to place the binding back onto Alma. He wanted to believe that Tyki _cared_…  
  
Alma wanted to believe that he wasn’t just seen as a valuable bargaining chip. He wanted to believe that he was more than that.  
  
_‘But you’re not,’_ a voice seemed to snap at Alma. _‘You’re nothing but a prisoner, and you were only _ever_ that…’_  
  
Lala gingerly rubbed her fingers over Alma’s hand, the motion a comforting one. “Maybe it’ll get better,” she offered. “Maybe…you’ll be able to talk to him again soon.”  
  
To this, Alma still kept his gaze averted as his lips remained shut. In his heart, he felt a deep ache to do just that: to speak with Tyki one last time. To just _talk_ to him…  
  
Deep down, Alma knew that it was unlikely.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Bak stared at his grandfather, unable to speak.  
  
There was not a sound in the study, save for the crackling of the fireplace. The flames sparked and echoed into the air, which resonated with an almost ghostly resonance. The air was tense and weighed by a heavy silence that loomed between Bak and Zuu.  
  
Zuu took a breath, as he dared to break the silence. “I know it’s a lot,” he admitted, voice leaden with wear. “This is not the way I would have wanted you to find out…”  
  
Something in Bak seemed to snap back to the present moment, as his eyes grew alert. “All this time,” he tried to manage, though the words were strained. “You…you never _told_ anyone?”  
  
“No,” Zuu spoke. “No, only your parents and I ever knew…and now you.”  
  
Bak took in a sharp breath, as he ran his hands through his hair. “I…” he began to say, though Bak couldn’t even formulate a sentence. He couldn’t think clearly after what his grandfather had just unveiled to him.  
  
“Bak, I understand how this must seem,” Zuu tried to reason. “But we couldn’t tell anyone. We couldn’t risk letting the Order find out-“  
  
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Bak questioned, as he turned back to Zuu, eyes oddly heated. “Were you ever going to tell _Alma_? All this time, he’s never understood why he hasn’t been able to leave home, and it’s not fair to him!”  
  
“I _know_,” Zuu emphasized, expression tinged with guilt. “You think I haven’t considered that? Even your parents didn’t know what to do – the trauma was so high that we weren’t sure how stable he’d be after undergoing such a process. We _had_ to erase his memories-“  
  
“It was _wrong_,” Bak argued. “Even if it seemed like the right decision then, it hasn’t turned out that way – Alma’s in the Underworld, and for all we know, _that _will trigger something!”  
  
Zuu didn’t say anything, as Bak’s words hung in the air. Exhaling, Zuu tried to rationalize with his grandson. “Bak, we must think carefully about this-“  
  
Bak didn’t listen, as he abruptly turned. He then started toward the door, about to leave-  
  
Quickly, Zuu caught Bak by the wrist. “Bak!” Zuu exclaimed. “Bak, it’s not as simple as what you think. We don’t know how the Order will react when they learn the truth-“  
  
Bak whirled around, as he met Zuu’s gaze. An uncharacteristically hard look passed over his features, before he broke free of Zuu’s grasp.  
  
“What I know, is that this is the information we need to get Alma back,” Bak stated. “And right now, unless someone says something, we may _never _see him again. And I won’t risk that.”  
  
“Bak-“  
  
Bak didn’t listen, as he ignored his grandfather’s words. Swiftly, he exited the study; he hurried along, not wanting to risk being stopped or intercepted. He couldn’t afford to be held back now – not when he now knew the truth.  
  
Taking a breath, Bak struggled to fathom just what it was his grandfather had revealed to him. He tried to fathom the terrible truth his own parents had kept hidden for eleven years, and the truth they had tried to hide about _Alma_….  
  
All this time. All this time, Bak had known something was strange – but he never would have thought that it would be _this_.  
  
Eventually, Bak entered into a second wing – one that he visited rarely, if ever. The walls were covered in a sheer crystal coating, causing the hall to look as though it were built of ice. It glinted in the darkness of the halls, with the torches illuminating it; the flames were a pale silver, which danced and flickered like the shadows of an aurora borealis.  
  
Bak had no time to pay attention to such details, as he soon came to a door. There were several guards stationed outside it, who looked at Bak curiously as he approached.  
  
Stopping just in front of the guards, Bak spoke. “I need to speak with Renee.”  
  
The guards hesitated, looking a bit uncertain of how to respond. While it wasn’t unusual that members of the Order might seek one another out, the fact that it was so late into the night was certainly peculiar.  
  
Looking back to Bak, one of the guards spoke. “Renee said she’d be working on some things in her study,” the guard stated. “She…didn’t exactly want to be disturbed-“  
  
“It’s _urgent_,” Bak emphasized, words stronger than normal. “It can’t wait until tomorrow, and pertains to sensitive information. So, I’d advise you let me pass.”  
  
The guard went quiet, evidently appearing somewhat stunned by the command. He then exchanged looks with the second guard.  
  
The guards nodded, as they stepped aside.  
  
Bak approached the door, and knocked loudly. He waited for a moment, ignoring the strange looks the guards were giving him. Already, Bak could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind anxious as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.  
  
The door opened. Renee answered, initially appearing somewhat vexed by the interruption – though she gave pause when she saw it was Bak outside her door.  
  
Raising and eyebrow, Renee spoke. “Bak?”  
  
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Bak said, words somewhat rushed. “It’s…urgent.”  
  
Renee frowned. She didn’t appear all that fond of the vagueness in which Bak spoke, but she also was not keen on dismissing Bak either. Nodding her head, she stepped aside, allowing for Bak to come in.  
  
Bak did so, walking into the study. He glanced around as he took note of the details of Renee’s space: the walls were a silvery blue hue, and with frost-like crystal spreading up the walls. A shiver rippled throughout Bak’s body as he looked at them, with it suddenly dawning on him how _cold_ Renee’s study felt.  
  
Shutting the door, Renee walked over to Bak. “Well?” she questioned. “I must admit, I never would have expected you to find me at such an hour.”  
  
Bak turned to Renee, as he fought to maintain his resolve. “There’s something I need to tell you,” Bak said. “It’s…it’s about my brother.”  
  
Hearing this, Renee went quiet, expression turning somber. “Go on…”  
  
Bak took a small breath, as he continued. “My grandfather confessed something to me, and…I think I know a way to bring Alma back,” he said, before he looked Renee in the eye. “But I don’t know how the Order will react, or what they’ll do if it works…”  
  
To this, Renee frowned. There was an unsettling way to how Bak spoke, with a grim undertone lacing his words. However, Renee wasn’t deterred – not in the slightest.  
  
Eyes never once breaking away, Renee spoke. “Tell me what you know,” she ordered. “If you don’t, then no one can help your brother.”  
  
Bak wavered, a trickle of hesitation seeping into his veins. He took a breath, as he forced the words out.  
  
“Alma was infected with dark matter…eleven years ago,” Bak finally admitted, the words acidic on his tongue. “He was marked.”  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had meant to post this yesterday, but aaaa. It’s been a strange week and I got slammed with a lot of things. >.< (It’s up now though!)
> 
> This is somewhat a transitional chapter, somewhat not. For Tyki and Alma, there’s still fallout, with neither of them okay after the last chapter. Tyki is still angry at Alma for breaking his word; it’s tense with his family, some of the Noah are put off by how rather blindly Tyki walked into things with Alma.
> 
> And Alma is just...more or less drowning in his own self-pity? Granted, he can’t do much of anything right now. He’s not able to leave his room (and is likely going stir crazy), and can’t apologize to Tyki. He’s also been reminded of how he is a prisoner essentially, and has no freedom. Tyki had given him _some_ autonomy, yes, but that’s gone and Alma knows it’s his own fault.
> 
> The big thing with this chapter is, of course, Bak finally learning the truth about Alma having been attacked and marked by the akuma so many years ago. Honestly, I feel terribly for him; Bak was kept in the dark along with Alma, and hearing that something so _pivotal_ has been kept from the Order (when, in Bak’s mind it could help bring Alma back), it’s jarring. It really pushes him to finally do something, which up until this point Bak has struggled with. 
> 
> (I don’t know - as a side note, I find Bak relatable? He’s like a 29 year old millennial in that bracket of trying to be a profession - in this case, deity at the Order - but he doesn’t have that respect or is seen as authoritative. I stan Bak in this AU.)
> 
> Aside from that, there’s not too much worth noting - but the next chapter I’ll warn is loaded, and the longest chapter I’ve ever written (currently, it’s over 13K, but I’m going to cut down what I can so it’s not such a monster XD). I should have it up by next week/weekend though. :3
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. <3


	25. The Erebus

Alma slept poorly throughout the night.  
  
He tossed and turned; it didn’t matter how hard Alma tried. Alma just couldn’t sleep, his dreams plagued by feverish images as nightmares trickled into his consciousness. Many times, he woke up with a start – skin hot and drenched with sweat, mind fogged and delirious. It was a maddening, sickening feeling – one that would not allow Alma a second of rest.  
  
He was so tired. So very, terribly _tired_…  
  
In the darkness of his room, Alma clutched at the sheets of his bed. He rolled over onto his back; his breaths shallow as beads of sweat trickled down his face, his expression scrunched into one of discomfort. In his head, something pounded. It hammered in his scalp, refusing to be quelled.  
  
Turning his face, Alma pressed it into the side of the pillow. God, it hurt so _much_…  
  
_‘Just stop,’_ Alma wanted to beg. _‘Please just stop…’_  
  
The sensation continued viciously. The pounding progressed, with an unbearable _pressure_ building inside of Alma’s head. It was an unforgiving experience that only added to Alma’s deliriousness, with distorted images blurring through his mind.  
  
_…Sick. Alma was sick. He didn’t know with what; he was so young, perhaps only seven. But he had such a horrible fever, and he was in so much pain…  
  
…There was something wrong. Alma didn’t understand what. But there was something wrong with his skin. His neck was scaly as dark, charred patches sprawled onto his chest, and his skin was on _fire_. He felt so horrible; he just wanted it to stop, and for whatever was happening to _go away_…  
  
…He was screaming. The pain was so unbearable that Alma couldn’t take it. He was only a child, his body small and unable to handle whatever it was that was happening to him. So, he did the only thing he could do: he screamed and he cried, his voice shrill and blood curdling. He was desperate for someone to make the pain go away, and to make him feel better again…  
  
…His parents. Alma could hear their voices, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He couldn’t understand what they were doing. His mother was pinning him down, trying to keep him still, but it _hurt_. It hurt _so much_…  
  
…Screaming. There was more screaming, which soon turned into sobs. And then the sobs quieted into small, pitiful cries…_  
  
Alma turned again, his body twisting into the sheets. The images wouldn’t stop. No matter what he did, they plagued his mind, replaying on a loop as though they were some vicious cycle sent to torment him. _‘Stop…’_  
  
Alma’s hand clutched at the bedsheets, as he shut his eyes tightly. He was half-asleep by this point, only partially aware of his surroundings. His eyes were warm, as he could feel moisture collecting in the corners, prompting Alma to try to shut his eyes even more tightly. _‘No…’_  
  
_…Pain. He was in so much pain, but Alma didn’t have it in him to sob. He barely had it in him to cry, his small body weak and unable to move…  
  
…Holding him. Someone was holding him, and crying…his mother? Alma didn’t know. He didn’t understand any of what was happening….  
  
_Alma grimaced. His head hadn’t stopped pounding, and he was so hot._ Too_ hot.  
  
_The akuma grinned down at Alma, as it kept him pinned to the ground. “You weren’t meant for the light,” it whispered into Alma’s ear. “Not after what I did to you…”  
  
Alma squirmed beneath the akuma’s grasp, as he desperately tried to escape. “No,” he said. “No, you’re lying!”  
  
A laugh escaped the akuma, as it leaned closer. It brought a bladed hand to Alma’s face, tracing it across the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m not,” it whispered. “Not when I marked you myself.”  
  
_Alma’s eyes finally snapped open, as a gasp escaped him. He shot up in bed, motions frantic as he looked around, eyes wide and terrified.   
  
At first, Alma was not sure where he was. The room was so dark, with every candle snuffed out and every shadow pitch black. It was too dark for Alma – too dark for him to feel safe. Heart pounding in his chest, Alma could not ignore the crippling fear that spiraled throughout him, pushing him to the brink of emotional collapse as he sought some sign of safety.  
  
Before Alma could even think, he spoke, calling out into nothing. “Tyki?”  
  
It was a knee-jerk reaction – one that even Alma didn’t quite understand. But in that moment, all he could do was long for whatever – for _whomever_ – would make him feel the safest.   
  
In this case, that person was Tyki.  
  
Soon, Alma’s coherency began to return, and he realized what he was doing. An immediate wave of shame and embarrassment fell over him, as he realized how stupidly _childish _his reaction was. After all, why would anyone come to comfort him? Alma wasn’t home, and he wasn’t with his family. He wasn’t anyone’s priority to comfort, and he certainly wasn’t _Tyki’s_ priority.  
  
Alma tried to reason with himself. He tried to rationalize. But, the longing in his chest remained. It remained, and it ached, as a terrible loneliness threatened to consume Alma.  
  
Tender touches. Warm embraces. Tyki had been so _gentle_ with Alma…  
  
A shaky breath wracked Alma’s insides, as he suddenly felt something wet begin to trickle down his cheeks.  
  
As soon as Alma registered that they were tears, he lost all composure, the lack of sleep taking its toll. An ugly, terrible sob escaped him, as he clutched at his face, hunching himself over as he curled into bed.  
  
“T-Tyki…” he sobbed, voice muffled and incoherent.   
  
His cries continued into the night, until they eventually died out.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The next morning, it was busy for Lala.  
  
The Erebus was a stately event. It was the single most grandiose affair of the year, completely ornate and opulent in its appearance. Being the one time that the Noah opened up their home to all other wandering souls in the Underworld, the castle was well-prepped, with the ballroom designated as the prime location of event.   
  
Lala herself was not assisting in the ballroom – something that in a way, she was grateful for. Instead, she was to keep more behind the scenes, with her tasks consisting more of prep work in the kitchen and ensuring that the main entrance hall was clean. It was only those two areas, but the amount of work was still dizzying; even with the other servants in the castle, Lala would be up to her knees in tasks.  
  
On top of this, she still had Alma to attend to.  
  
Quickly, Lala finished preparing a breakfast tray. She was careful to make sure any items she brought were specifically from the mortal realm, and even more so with the cross traffic in the kitchen.   
  
Other servants, many quiet and some even in masks, whisked by, wordlessly completing their duties without a second though. Lala didn’t pay them any mind and took the tray. On it was some olive bread, feta, a few soft-boiled eggs and fresh water – a smaller meal, but one Lala hoped Alma would take. The last few days he hadn’t eaten much of anything, and she was beginning to worry.  
  
Hurrying out of the kitchens, Lala rushed out through one of the exits, entering into a back hall. The clatter of noise almost died instantly, with only one of two other servants passing Lala as she walked down the narrow hallway.  
  
Quickly, Lala rounded the corner, as she began to descend up a narrow flight of stairs-  
  
Lala stumbled, as she almost collided with Road.   
  
Gasping, Lala just barely managed to keep the tray intact. She looked up, somewhat startled. “Ah, I’m sorry, Lady Road-“  
  
Road smiled. “That’s okay,” she said, her teeth starkly white in the dim lighting of the staircase. “Are you taking breakfast up to Alma?”  
  
Lala paused. She gripped at the tray, and somewhat instinctively pulled it back. “I’m just taking it up now,” Lala said. “He hasn’t felt as well the last few days, so I should be on my way.”  
  
Road pouted, as she feigned a look of sympathy. “Aw. Poor Alma,” she said. “Things must be so hard for him…”  
  
Lala looked back at Road, her gaze somewhat sharper than she intended. However, something about the way Road spoke pricked her – and in response, Lala could feel herself turn defensive for Alma.  
  
“He hasn’t exactly had an easy time being here,” Lala stated, careful to keep her tone even. “It hasn’t helped that he’s been confined to his bedroom the last several days either…”  
  
Road’s eyes gleamed, as her lips upturned even more. “Well, good news for him then – Lord Millennium decided that Alma should be allowed to attend the Erebus.”  
  
Surprise flickered across Lala’s expression. “Really?”  
  
Road nodded. “Mmhmm. Of course, Alma can’t wander around anywhere else unless a Noah is with him, and he’ll only be allowed to attend until midnight,” Road said, as she shrugged her shoulders. “But by all means – do give him the good news. Lord Millennium is having some dresswear tailored for him, so be sure to collect that before it gets too late in the day.”  
  
Lala faltered. She was still somewhat surprised by the decision, though inside, she felt a bit of relief. Alma had been so isolated ever since the maze incident – perhaps getting to go to the Erebus would make him feel better. It _was_ a ball, after all.  
  
“Ah, thank you,” Lala said, as she still balanced the tray in her grasp. “I’ll let Alma know.”  
  
Road grinned. She had yet to step aside though, as her eyes once more flickered to the tray Lala was carry. “Better get that up to Alma,” she suggested, words impish. “Wouldn’t want to risk it getting contaminated by any food from the Underworld.”  
  
Hearing this Lala, stiffened. She clasped at the tray tightly, before she darted around Road, excusing herself as she hurried up the stairs.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma’s head was pounding when he woke up.   
  
He grimaced, as he tried to sit up in bed. He felt lightheaded and had to clutch at his scalp to keep the room was spinning. Additionally, his eyes felt swollen. They were puffy, and opening them felt like a challenge; sleep crusted in Alma’s tear ducts, and he wanted to scrub his face clean.  
  
Taking his arm, Alma wiped what he could before he tried to blink his eyes open. His vision took a second to clear, but eventually the room came into focus. The candles had been lit to signify that it was morning, and the fireplace was crackling across the room.  
  
Alma forced himself up, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Across the room, he caught sight of himself in the vanity mirror and wanted to wince; Alma looked dreadful, his face red and splotchy while his hair stuck up in all sorts of odd angles. _‘Ugh…’  
  
_What had even happened during the night? Alma could hardly remember at first. His sleep had been so fitful, with his dreams plagued by contorted images and disturbing sights. Visions of his mother, his father, the akuma…  
  
Bringing his hand up to his face, Alma ran his fingers across the bridge of his nose, the tips tracing against the scar he had.  
  
A painful yearning filled Alma, as he glanced over on the nightstand. Beside the try of tea Lala had left, there was a coin – the message that Bak had sent to Alma. Even without having to unravel the message, Alma knew perfectly well what it said. He had practically memorized it given how many times he had read the words, soaking them up as though doing so would magically allow for him to be closer to his family.  
  
_…Mother and Father are so worried about you…  
  
…We miss you, and we’re doing all we can to bring you back…  
  
…We _won’t_ let the Noah get away with this…_  
  
Alma turned away from the coin. Bak’s resolve had been clear in the message, but even that did little to comfort Alma. By this point, Alma had been in the Underworld for a month and a half, which each second ticking by relentlessly.   
  
In a way, Alma couldn’t help but feel that he would never go back. That he would never see his family again. And that Tyki…  
  
That Tyki would never talk to him either.  
  
That last thought pierced Alma, and he flinched. He wasn’t even sure why it had such an effect on him though. Tyki was a Noah, so had Alma really thought that Tyki would have actually _cared_? That whatever had gone on between them – or whatever Alma had _thought_ had gone on between them – would last? If only Alma had kept his word…  
  
Alma realized that this was just another indicator of how naïve he had truly been.  
  
A knock brought Alma from his thoughts. For a moment, he debated on pretending to be asleep. He was so exhausted and felt so horrible – Alma wasn’t sure if he had it in him to see Lala.  
  
However, a small bit of guilt pinched at Alma’s insides, and he spoke up. “Come in.”  
  
The door opened, and as Alma expected, Lala stepped inside. Carrying a breakfast tray, she looked over at Alma with a smile on her face. “Good morning,” she spoke, before she took note of Alma’s disheveled appearance. Her expression then shifted into one of concern. “Were you able to sleep alright?”  
  
Alma attempted to smile back, for the sake of being reassuring. He was barely able to do so. “Ah, not as well…but I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he brushed off, not wanting Lala to worry any more than she already was.   
  
Lala nodded. She still appeared concerned, but she didn’t press further. Carefully, she placed the breakfast tray down, switching it out with the tea tray.   
  
Lala looked back at Alma. “Oh – I did get some good news! I found out that Lord Millennium decided you’re to attend the Erebus,” she said, as she offered Alma a somewhat hopeful smile. “It could be nice – you’d be able to enjoy it this evening, and could get out for a bit.”  
  
Alma blinked in surprise. He was at first uncertain of how to respond, as a flurry of emotions swirled throughout him. On one hand, the thought of having to face the Noah after what had happened in the hedge maze was…uncomfortable. Alma knew that he had displeased them all, and a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if there was some catch involved with him being able to attend to the Erebus. However, when Alma thought about being able to finally leave his _room_…  
  
Alma looked off to the side, as he rubbed his wrist. “I…I don’t know,” Alma said, hesitation clinging to him like a heavy shroud. “I’m not sure if it’s if it’s such a good idea.”  
  
Lala watched Alma, the discomfort around him palpable. Sensing his indecisiveness, she spoke again. “You could always go for just a little while,” Lala suggested. “It could be a good compromise. You’d be there long enough so that it wouldn’t cause offense to Lord Millennium, but you could leave as soon as you wish.”  
  
Alma paused. He realized that Lala had a point. Regardless of what Alma wanted, not showing up at all would be perceived as disrespect. Alma was already on thin enough ice with the Noah as it was, and the last thing he wanted to do was enrage them any further – especially Lord Millennium.  
  
Quietly, Alma released a breath. His insides churned nauseously. “Alright,” he finally agreed, as he looked back at Lala. “I’ll go.”  
  
Lala smiled. “Lord Millennium is already having an outfit prepared for you to wear – I’ll bring that back once its ready. In the meantime, you should probably get cleaned up. The Erebus is a rather large-scale affair.”  
  
Alma nodded. He didn’t say anything else though, as he fought to repress the unease that curdled in his blood.   
  
_‘Just for a little bit,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘You just have to go for a little bit. And maybe you’ll even see…’_  
  
Before Alma could allow himself to be too optimistic, he refused to hope any further.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Darkness. It was only ever darkness that one could see upon entering the Underworld.  
  
Allen was used to it by now. The endless darkness. The icy decay. Navigating the Underworld was second nature to Allen – passing through it came so easily, so _freely_. Sometimes, Allen wasn’t even afraid. He wasn’t afraid of the darkness or of how it threatened to envelope him, threatening to consume him from the inside out.  
  
But then, Allen would remember. He would remember who he was. And he would be afraid.   
  
Shaking his head, Allen walked on. He had just passed into the Underworld, having entered through a crevice of light that spiraled into the depths below the earth’s surface, sealed with magic and runes so that no one could pass through it – not unless, it was at the commands of the Order.   
  
Gingerly, Allen brushed his hand against the pouch of coins he carried – in it, one message weighing more heavily than the rest.  
  
The Noah would not be pleased to see him.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Evening came quickly – far more quickly than Alma had anticipated. After Lala had left that morning, Alma had taken to washing up. He had needed to, given how terrible he had looked that morning, with the process having taken a little longer than normal. By some miracle, Alma looked _decent_ by the end of it. If anything, his hair was not quite as disastrous, and the puffiness around his eyes had lessened.   
  
Lala returned in the late afternoon, with an outfit for Alma to wear to the Erebus. Admittedly, Alma wasn’t sure what to think of it; the dresswear was _nothing_ like what he ever wore. There was a pair of slacks made from fine leather, with the stitching resembling what appeared to be vine-like tendrils. There was also a long-sleeved top, which appeared to be mostly woven from silk; a leather vest accompanied it, with intricate detailing around the belt that almost appeared like dark, obsidian-colored flowers.  
  
The outfit was almost entirely black as well, save for the slight, dark emerald and turquoise sheen that glimmered throughout it.  
  
Alma fidgeted uncomfortably. He wore the clothing but squirmed internally. He wasn’t used to wearing such fitted things, and frankly, he had no idea how the Noah could stand it. It was stifling compared to the chitons Alma wore.  
  
_‘It’s so…dark,’_ Alma thought, as he slipped on a pair of black boots. If anything, he wished that the clothing didn’t have to be _black_ – even the circlet he had been given to wear on his head was a dark onyx.  
  
He hoped that the Erebus would pass quickly.  
  
Somewhat anxiously, Alma glanced at the clock. It was already half-past eight, and Lala had said the Erebus began a little before then.   
  
Alma stood up. He knew that he couldn’t put off attending, and needed to go.  
  
Gaze shifting, his attention landed on the necklace that Tyki had given him. It rested on the nightstand beside his bed.  
  
Alma’s heart lurched. Tyki had gotten that necklace for Alma to wear to the Erebus, but Alma didn’t know if it’d be right for him to wear it anymore.  
  
There was a quick knock, before the door opened. Lala peeked inside.  
  
“I only had a minute to slip away,” Lala said, as she stepped into the room. With her, she was holding what looked to be a mask. “I thought I’d walk with you to the ballroom.”  
  
Relief filled Alma. “I’d really like that,” he said, managing a small, appreciative smile.  
  
“Are you ready then?” Lala asked.  
  
Alma paused. Glancing back toward the nightstand, he made a split-second decision, taking the necklace as he slipped it on. While the back of his shirt had a collar that flared up in the back, the front was exposed, coming down in a small V-shape, and exposing his necklace beautifully.  
  
Finished, Alma looked back at Lala. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said, his insides churning nervously.  
  
Lala smiled, but then hesitated as she remembered something. “You should probably take this,” she said, as she handed the mask to Alma. “It’s a masquerade, so everyone will be wearing them.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked at the mask. It was only a half-one that would cover his eyes; as the rest of his outfit, the mask was black, though it had a matching floral design that glinted in the candlelight.  
  
Taking the mask, Alma put it on. It felt peculiar to wear, but the thought of having a mask was a _little_ comforting. Maybe if Alma was lucky, he wouldn’t stand out too much.  
  
With nothing left to attend to, Alma and Lala both left the room. While walking, Alma looked over at Lala uncertainly. “So…who goes to this exactly?” Alma asked. “Road said it was…mostly the dead.”  
  
Lala nodded. “Not everyone who enters into the Underworld crosses over to the afterlife they’re intended for. So, a lot of wandering souls latch onto this area,” Lala explained. “Often, they turn into demons or akuma. We do have a lot of their kind who attend…some of them actually have higher rankings, and carry out orders for the Noah.”  
  
Alma swallowed, somewhat unnerved by the explanation. He looked forward. “I didn’t realize there were so many others in the Underworld.”  
  
“Ah, you wouldn’t think it with how quiet the Underworld can be,” Lala explained. “This is the one time of year they all come together. It used to be a larger ordeal, when there was no barrier to keep those in the Underworld from venturing into the mortal realm...but that changed in time.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked back at Lala curiously. He didn’t get a chance to ask for any elaboration though, before he could hear music and laughter in the distance.  
  
Lala stopped walking, as they reached where the hallway broke off into a larger corridor. “I probably shouldn’t go any farther than this…I’m not supposed to be in the same area as the guests,” Lala stated. “But it’s just up ahead.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he felt his heart jump into his throat. He was honestly more intimidated by the thought of going forward on his own than he cared to admit, but he didn’t want to say such to Lala. Not when she had already done what she could to be supportive.  
  
“Thanks,” Alma said, as he glanced back at Lala. “For walking me here.”  
  
Lala smiled. “Try to have fun.”  
  
Alma smiled in return, though it was a weak. He didn’t know how likely it was he would have _fun_, but it would…certainly be something.  
  
Lala kept back after that, allowing for Alma to continue forward.   
  
The music grew louder as Alma continued down the corridor. Shrieks of laughter echoed into the hall, the sound dancing across the walls like ghostly chatter in Alma’s ears. They danced, just as the torch lights did in the hallways, with the shadows stretching up high into the ceiling, the walls lined in obsidian.  
  
Before too long, Alma could see the entrance of the ballroom come into view. There was a tall pair of doors rimmed in onyx and silver. They were already propped wide open so that a glimpse of the ballroom’s interior was visible-  
  
Arriving at the doors, before Alma froze all together.  
  
Alma had never seen the ballroom before, and frankly, he had not had the slightest idea of what to expect. But upon seeing the ballroom, he was left _speechless_. The whole interior of the ballroom was crystal. There was no stone, there was no metal – it was all clear, shimmering _crystal_. There was a pale amethyst and opal sheen to it, but everything from the pillars to the floors to the ceiling glittered. It was a complete cavern smoothed to architectural perfection, with three chandeliers looming above the ballroom as they glowed softly.  
  
What was more intriguing than the architecture, was those in attendance. People flourished in the ballroom, crowding it as they danced in darkly colored fabrics and gleaming jewels. Their faces were masked, some wearing beautiful facades of porcelain while other attendees had grotesque monstrosities to hide their features. It was vibrantly disorienting, as the energy flooded throughout the room in an overbearing manner.  
  
Already, Alma was overwhelmed.  
  
In something of a daze, Alma entered into the ballroom, keeping to the side as those in the center danced. Uneasily, he glanced around; because of the masks, he couldn’t be certain of where the Noah were, and the realization made him anxious. Alma didn’t actually know anyone else there, and there were so many…  
  
Souls. Demons. Akuma. Alma was in a room of death, yet the vitality of the ballroom was astounding.  
  
Alma pressed himself against a crystal pillar. It was so loud in the ballroom, and there were so many masks – he wasn’t sure where to look. Silently, Alma wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake in coming after all. He had no idea what to do, and he didn’t recognize anyone.  
  
“Look who showed up.”  
  
Alma turned, somewhat startled. When he looked, he was surprised to see it was Fiidora who had turned up beside him. As usual, his teal hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and the mask Fiidora wore only covered the right side of his face, making him easier to recognize.  
  
Fiidora grinned at Alma. “I don’t think anyone was sure if you’d actually come,” he said.   
  
Alma straightened himself, as his gaze flickered off to the side. “Lord Millennium allowed it…I didn’t want to be rude.”  
  
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Fiidora said, as he wrapped an arm around Alma’s shoulder. “We should go say hi – you don’t want to be a wallflower all night, do you?”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to speak, but already could feel Fiidora pull him along as they made their way through the crowd. Instinctively, Alma wanted to squirm; he didn’t like Fiidora being so close to him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to get lost among the sea of attendees. Everyone was so loud and so close; the ballroom felt hot, and Alma’s head threatened to spin from the constant sway of movement.  
  
Soon enough, Fiidora guided Alma to a clearing at the other end of the ballroom. There, several individuals stood, one of who Alma saw was-  
  
Alma’s body turned rigid. That face. The gray, ashen skin, and the beady, yellow eyes. The large, plastered grin and the sharp, twisted ears….  
  
The Millennium Earl. The Millennium Earl, in that hideous, _monstrous_ form.  
  
Alma felt nauseous, and he could feel his shoulders shaking slightly. He hadn’t seen the Earl’s true form except for their first meeting several weeks ago, and honestly, Alma had never wanted to lay eyes on it again. The wish had been in vain, and Fiidora nudged Alma forward.  
  
“Lord Millennium,” Fiidora called, grin still broad. “Your little moonflower showed up.”  
  
The Earl turned, having been in mid-conversation. He paused as soon as his attention landed on where Alma was.  
  
“Ah, you came!” Lord Millennium exclaimed, voice booming and boisterous. “We were beginning to worry that you decided to stay in your room all night.”  
  
Alma remained still, as he was unable to keep from staring. Pathetically, he could feel his mouth dry, as his lungs strained to function properly.  
  
Beside the Millennium Earl, someone stepped forward – _Road_, Alma realized. She was wearing a dainty mask, lined in lavender and pink, with a matching gown that flowed out in frills. “I think your mask is scaring him, Lord Millennium,” Road noted with a sly grin.  
  
“Oh?” the Earl questioned, before he looked back at Alma. Taking a gloved hand, he clasped at his jaw, pulling up the front-  
  
As Road had stated, it was a mask.  
  
The Earl smiled at Alma, his human face perfectly normal beneath the grotesque façade. “See?” the Earl spoke. “Just a mask – had to have a good one for tonight!”  
  
Alma took a small breath, as he tried to compose himself. “Ah...um, right,” Alma said, words somewhat awkward. He could still a ghost of a tremor in his muscles, but tried to ignore it. _‘Just a mask…’_  
  
There was a slight pause, and Alma could feel the gazes of the Noah on him. Quickly, he spoke again, the words coming out weakly. “Thank you for allowing me to attend tonight.”  
  
“Of course,” the Earl stated, smile still in place. “The Erebus is only once a year – we wouldn’t be so heartless as to keep you from experiencing it.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he looked off to the side. Before he could stop himself, his attention wandered…  
  
“Fiidora, come dance with me!” Road ordered, before she pulled at his arm.   
  
Fiidora looked over at Road, somewhat surprised. “Since when do you want to dance with me? I thought Tyki was your go-to.”  
  
Alma’s ears perked up, as soon as the name _Tyki_ rang in the air.   
  
Road rolled her eyes. “Tyki’s busy right now, and I don’t want to wait.”  
  
Fiidora sniggered. “Of course, he is,” he said. “But fine. I’ll dance with you for a minute.”  
  
Taking Road’s hand, Fiidora guided her away after that.   
  
As soon as they left, the Earl turned back to Alma. “You should go enjoy yourself – there’s no sense in wasting a perfectly good night,” he encouraged, a grin still plastered onto his face. His yellow eyes gleamed, a keen look stewing within them. “Considering how things have been, you never know when you’ll get another chance.”  
  
Alma looked at the Earl, somewhat taken aback by the words. There had been something of a sting to them – a nip of a warning, subtle yet sharp. Alma may have at times been naïve, but he was not a complete fool – he knew what the Earl meant.  
  
Quietly, Alma nodded.  
  
Unexpectedly, the Earl placed a hand on Alma’s back – the touch so unexpected, that Alma flinched. The Earl took no notice, as he slipped his hand up, keeping a firm grasp on Alma’s shoulder.   
  
“Make sure to behave tonight,” the Earl spoke, words lower than before.   
  
Alma tensed, as the words trickled into his ears.  
  
The Earl stepped back, as he released his hold on Alma. More jovially, he spoke. “Go on now – find someone nice to dance with.”  
  
Alma glanced back at the Earl swiftly. Then, without saying anything more, he hurried off.  
  
Quickly, Alma snaked through the crowd. It was no easy task; people were twirling, their voices carrying into the air in accompaniment to the orchestra, completely lost in their own euphoric merriment. A few times, Alma almost collided with someone; he would try to apologize, but would stop short every time he came face to face with a mask. Porcelain faces, monstrous faces, blank faces – they were all so strange and stunning to behold, Alma didn’t even know where to _look_…  
  
Alma was close to reaching the edge of the ballroom, when he thought he caught sight of someone familiar.  
  
It had been fleeting: a glimpse of a long dark ponytail, followed by what Alma thought was a low chuckle. A familiar one that reminded Alma of warm, velvety chocolate: rich, deep, soothing.   
  
Alma turned swiftly, almost making himself dizzy from doing so. He strained to look through the crowd, as he sought that familiar face – the very one that he had been aching to see for the past several nights. However, the people around him were spinning. They kept spinning and spinning, like blurs of dark colors twirling into a kaleidoscope of movement.  
  
There was another glimpse – a small one, but one that caused Alma to stop. There, just amongst the crowd, Alma could see him. He could see Tyki. Wearing a half-face mask that was also black, intricately woven like metallic tendrils reminiscent of butterflies, Alma was able to recognize him from afar. The way his molten colored eyes glowed against his richly tanned skin, and the way his dark locks framed his face. Alma was able to recognize Tyki easily, and he immediately felt his heart threaten to yank itself out of his chest.  
  
Through the crowd, Alma tried to push through. He tried to weave through the dancers, the task a tedious and slow one. However, he was getting closer. He was getting closer, and perhaps, he could finally try to speak to Tyki again-  
  
Alma stopped.  
  
He hadn’t realized it at first, but Tyki was not alone. No, he was dancing with someone – a woman, by the looks of it. She was lovely, wearing what appeared to be a feathered mask and a bronze gown. A blissful smile was on her painted lips as she looked up at Tyki adoringly – just as Tyki smiled back down at her.  
  
Upon seeing this, Alma’s heart cracked.  
  
Alma wasn’t sure what happened in that moment, but suddenly, he couldn’t be there. He couldn’t be there in that ballroom, amongst all of those dancers and amidst the masks. It was too hot, and it was too loud. Alma couldn’t take it, and he needed to leave.   
  
He needed to leave the ballroom.  
  
Turning, Alma tried to push through the crowd. It was yet again a challenge; everywhere he turned there were masks, and there was so much laughter. It was _maddening,_ and Alma couldn’t take it. He needed space, and he needed _air_.  
  
Forcefully, Alma finally made his way to the edge of the ballroom. He exhaled heavily, as he leaned against a crystal pillar, the material cool against his touch.   
  
Breathe. Alma just needed to _breathe_ – he just needed to collect himself. He just needed to collect himself, and then he could try to make his way to the exit-  
  
There were footsteps nearing Alma, though he didn’t pay them any mind at first. As Alma looked down, he could see a pair of black boots, indicating that someone had stopped just in front of him.  
  
Confused, Alma looked up.  
  
Alma had no idea who the stranger was. He was a tall man, dressed in dark, slate-colored finery. The stranger had something of a thin build, though it was hard for Alma to decipher much else about him; his face was obscured, covered in an ivory, oval mask with a long, hooked nose that was lined with gold.  
  
Alma looked at the stranger uncertainly, his words catching in his throat when the stranger held out a gloved hand.  
  
“Would you like to dance?” the stranger asked, voice low and soft.  
  
Alma stilled. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first. He had no idea who this person was, and he had no idea why they were even asking him to dance. Looking off to the side, Alma rubbed his arm.  
  
“I…I don’t know,” Alma responded. “I should be leaving…”  
  
Alma trailed off, as something in his chest twisted. Once again, he found himself fixating on Tyki, and fixating on the woman who Tyki had been dancing with…  
  
The stranger never once pulled back his hand, as he spoke again. “I insist,” he said, words strangely even. “Dance with me.”  
  
Alma looked back at the stranger, gaze hesitant. Then he glanced down at the stranger’s hand. Again, he thought of Tyki.  
  
Somewhat tentatively, Alma took the stranger’s hand.  
  
Before Alma could change his mind, the stranger pulled him back toward where the rest of the attendees were dancing. They were moving quickly: Alma realized he didn’t even know where to begin, as he was suddenly aware that he had no idea _how_ to dance. Everyone else had such fluid movements, of which Alma could only watch dumbly.  
  
The stranger was unfazed, as he took one of Alma’s hands while holding him by the waist. Without waiting, the stranger then began to guide Alma in a dance, leading him in each step as they began to move in sync with the rest of the dancers.  
  
Alma glanced down. He instinctively wanted to watch the way the stranger’s feet were moving, as he tried to keep up with the steps. Such proved to be more difficult, with Alma stumbling clumsily.  
  
“Sorry,” Alma apologized, as he attempted to look up. Alma found his attention wandering to the side, though; they were still dancing so swiftly, and there were so many people around them-  
  
Through the crowd, Alma caught another glimpse of Tyki – still dancing with someone else, and completely distracted.  
  
The stranger didn’t say anything, as he eyed Alma through his mask. “You’re not from here,” he observed plainly.  
  
Alma turned back to the stranger somewhat abruptly. “What?”  
  
The stranger continued to stare at Alma, expression concealed behind cold, smooth porcelain. As the stranger did this, Alma could feel something cold prickle against his skin.  
  
“What is your name?” the stranger asked.  
  
Alma faltered. It should have been an easy answer, yet something in Alma’s throat hitched. Nervously, he broke eye contact. “Um. It’s…”  
  
As Alma tried to answer, his attention inevitably wandered to look at those dancing around them. All of the masks, all of the finery – Alma could feel his thoughts slip away, the sight of everyone dancing dizzyingly hypnotic.  
  
Alma froze, as he caught sight of Tyki looking over in his direction in the crowd.  
  
The stranger’s grip around Alma’s waist tightened. “Well?”  
  
Alma pushed back, causing the stranger’s hold on him to let go. He nearly collided into another dancer, but steadied himself. Alma looked back at the stranger guiltily.  
  
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Alma rushed, just as he turned to leave.  
  
If the stranger tried to stop him, Alma didn’t know. He had already pushed through several dancers, though they hardly seemed to pay Alma any mind; they only danced on, their laughter shrill and voices cacophonic.  
  
_‘Keep moving,’_ Alma tried to urge himself. _‘Just keep moving!’_  
  
Finally, Alma reached the edge of the ballroom. He realized that he wasn’t close to the main doors, and looked around for some other means of escape. To his relief, there was another pair of doors that were propped open – though they appeared to lead outside, to some sort of a veranda.  
  
Before anyone could stop him, Alma ran out through the doors.  
  
Outside, it was dark and cold. The veranda was long and narrow, with several stone pillars stretching along the exterior of the castle. Because the veranda was ground level, Alma could see the garden encircling the castle, with silvery flowers glowing in the darkness as their sweet scent trickled into the air.  
  
Alma paused, as he leaned against one of the columns. He exhaled, as the music and the chatter of the guests faded into the background, almost as though the whole experience of the masquerade was nothing more than a distant dream.  
  
Alma steadied himself. He looked up, his gaze landing on the garden outside.  
  
Inside, there was a small tug – a desire for him to be close to something comforting.  
  
Without thinking, Alma took a step forward, just as he tried to cross over the veranda-  
  
His ankle was promptly yanked back, the sound of rattling chains echoing in Alma’s ears.  
  
Looking down, Alma glanced at his left ankle. Although he was wearing boots, he could still see the faint golden glow of the anklet, just before it died.  
  
Alma’s shoulders slumped. He should have known that the binding would have activated if he tried to wander elsewhere than the ballroom.  
  
Alma leaned back against the column, as he looked out toward the garden for a few moments longer. An icy breeze brushed by, carrying with it the gentle fragrance of the nocturnal blossoms.  
  
Faintly, Alma felt a shiver tickle his spine.  
  
He repressed a shudder, as he pushed himself off of the pillar. Alma knew that if he didn’t want to get in trouble that he shouldn’t have lingered outside – not after how the last few days had been. A small sigh escaping him, Alma turned-  
  
Alma jumped, as the stranger was standing just behind him.  
  
The stranger didn’t say anything and remained motionless.  
  
Alma stared, somewhat stunned at first. Then, as he looked away, Alma tried to move around him. “Excuse me-“  
  
The stranger shifted, as he blocked Alma from leaving.  
  
Alma stilled. His blue eyes flickered up from beneath his half-mask, as he looked at the stranger’s eerie, porcelain façade. In his chest, his heart thudded anxiously.   
  
“Let me pass,” Alma said, as he tried to move once more.  
  
The stranger stopped Alma, catching him by the shoulder. As the stranger did this, Alma couldn’t help but notice how _cold_ the stranger’s grasp was; despite the gloves he wore, the stranger’s hand felt like a claw. Sharp. Unyielding. _Dangerous_.  
  
“You never answered my question,” the stranger spoke quietly. “And you never told me where you’re from.”  
  
Alma took a breath, as he tried to remain calm. "I don’t have to answer,” he said, words firm despite the tremor that threatened to spill throughout his chest. “Now let me _pass-_“  
  
Alma was cut off, as the stranger slammed him against a column, pinning him against the smooth surface. Alma grimaced, his head spinning from the impact.  
  
Blinking, Alma looked up. He could see the stranger’s mask looming close to his face.  
  
“I heard a rumor,” the stranger spoke softly, his claw-like hands pinning Alma by the wrists. “That there was a visitor here – someone from the _living_ world.”  
  
As the stranger said this, Alma could feel his body turn rigid.  
  
“I thought it was a rumor, but then I heard that the Noah had a _Chang_ staying with them,” the stranger continued. “And how interesting that would be – someone from the very family who helped to imprison us all here, finally trapped themselves…”  
  
Alma stared, breath catching in his throat. He could feel himself freezing up, as a sense of alarm gradually began to course throughout his body, building up until something inside Alma _snapped_.  
  
From behind the stranger, a large, thorny vine sprouted. It thrashed down, cracking like a whip before the vine struck at the stranger.  
  
The stranger whirled around, his mask getting knocked off by the vine. The stranger remained unfazed as he grabbed the vine with one hand.  
  
There was a loud _sizzling_, as dark smoke started to emit from where the stranger’s hand had clasped over the vine, and the sudden realization slammed Alma in the face: the stranger was _burning_ the vine.  
  
The strangled laughed, his face turned away slightly. “So, you are the one I heard about,” the stranger said, as he turned to face Alma. “Aren’t I lucky?”  
  
Alma gritted his teeth. He looked up, prepared to retort-  
  
Alma’s heart froze.  
  
His face. The stranger’s face was nothing like what Alma could have ever imagined. It was ugly and grotesque, with the skin shriveled to a reddish brown, rotting and flaking to dust. His jaw was narrow and came to a point, while the nose was missing all together. And his eyes…  
  
Sockets. They were large, empty sockets.  
  
Alma couldn’t move. He was paralyzed, completely horrified by the stranger’s face – and even more horrified when he realized what the stranger was.  
  
_Akuma._  
  
Seeing Alma’s shock, the akuma smiled, teeth sharp and yellow. “What’s the matter? Nothing to say to the likes of me?” the akuma asked.  
  
Alma remained tense, as his breaths became shallow. By some miracle, he found himself managing to speak. “Let me _go_.”  
  
The akuma grinned, as it traced his fingers alongside Alma’s face. The tips of the claws poked through the gloves, fabric tearing as glints of silver could be seen.   
  
“Maybe I will,” the akuma said, as its claws stopped just at the base of Alma’s neck. “_After_ I’ve had my way with you…”  
  
Alma felt his blood run cold, eyes widening as soon as the words were spoken.  
  
There was a loud _spark,_ before Alma caught sight of what appeared to be a burst of dark, ultraviolet energy. Abruptly, the akuma was thrown to the ground, the blast impacting it directly.  
  
Alma stared, completely stunned. He had no idea what had just happened, and turned to see what could have caused the blast.  
  
Alma was once more dumbfounded, when he saw it was Tyki.  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He was standing there, still wearing his half-mask and in his evening finery. His expression was stony, and his eyes were scalding – so much, that they reminded Alma of wildfire. Unpredictable. Destructive.  
  
Alma then noticed that one of Tyki’s hands was sparking with ultraviolet light.  
  
The akuma began to stand, but didn’t get a chance to do so fully. Tyki had already come over, aggressively yanking the akuma by the collar of their evening wear.   
  
Icily, Tyki met the akuma’s gaze. “I don’t think Lord Millennium would be all that pleased to know how you’re treating other guests,” Tyki spoke, unexpectedly smooth and calm. “Especially guests who have been invited under special circumstances.”  
  
The akuma grinned. “Apologies,” it spoke, as it nodded its head toward Alma. “I didn’t realize we were treating the likes of _him_ like honored guests-”  
  
The akuma was cut off, as Tyki jerked the akuma forward, gripping its collar with both hands. The motion was violent, yet carefully controlled. Precise.  
  
Eyes practically glowing, Tyki looked at the akuma. “Think twice before insulting the decisions of the Noah,” he spoked, words still low, but warning. “Now take leave – or else I can’t promise what I’ll do next.”  
  
As soon as he finished, Tyki released the akuma. The akuma staggered a bit, but remained collected as it picked up the discarded mask on the ground. Standing upright, the akuma placed the porcelain mask back onto its face.  
  
The akuma turned one last time to look at Alma, before entering back into the ballroom.  
  
Alma watched. He didn’t say anything, having been holding his breath until the akuma was out of sight. He still felt the remnants of adrenaline pumping throughout his veins, his heartbeat gradually beginning to slow to a normal rate.   
  
In the corner of his eye, Alma saw Tyki look over at him.  
  
Attention flickering over to Tyki, Alma quickly turned forward as he started to walk back toward the ballroom’s entrance.  
  
Tyki caught Alma by the wrist. “You shouldn’t head back in there just yet-“  
  
Alma whirled around. There was an oddly defiant look in his eyes, a small frown on his face.  
  
“I’m just going back to my room,” Alma spoke, his words somewhat tense.   
  
Tyki’s lips tugged downward, as his brows knitted together. He did not rush to release his grip on Alma’s wrist, his gaze lingering on Alma pensively. “You were just attacked by an akuma,” he pointed out. “Which, I have to say, it didn’t look like you were doing too well…”  
  
As soon as the words were out, Alma could feel something inside himself coil, pulling back until there was an abrupt _snap_. It was sudden and vicious; Alma had not even realized it was close to happening until it was too late. But after the last few days – the maze, the Erebus, the akuma – Alma was at his limit. He didn’t have any patience left.  
  
“I was doing _fine,_” Alma snapped, his words spilling from his lips scathingly. “I didn’t need you to get involved, and I could have handled it on my own!”  
  
Tyki faltered. He was somewhat caught off guard by the unexpectedly heated response, and even more so by the volatile flicker that sparked in Alma’s eyes.   
  
While Tyki appeared to be processing Alma’s words, Alma yanked his wrist from Tyki’s grasp, clasping his hands against one another. He tore his gaze away as he looked off to the side, his heart racing from the heat of his emotions. Alma took a quiet breath, as he _tried_ to stay calm…  
  
It wasn’t working.  
  
Alma wasn’t sure what it was anymore. He wasn’t sure what it was that was upsetting him so much. The maze. The captivity. _Tyki_…  
  
A bitter taste tickled Alma’s tongue. Tyki had been so intimate with Alma just days before, and then had shut Alma out without a second glance. Yet here Tyki was, having come back to Alma’s aid when he _had _needed help. It was such a tormenting thing to do. Alma didn’t understand it – did Tyki enjoy toying with Alma as though he were a plaything?  
  
Against his better interest, Alma thought back to the woman he had seen Tyki dancing with earlier at the Erebus. Perhaps, Alma had been a plaything after all.  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, as he watched Alma close in on himself. His expression remained hard, eyes dark and lips pressed into a tight line.  
  
“Let’s go,” Tyki spoke quietly, as he began to walk toward the ballroom entrance.  
  
Alma blinked, as he looked back at Tyki. “I can go on my own-“  
  
“I’m _not_ going to repeat myself,” Tyki said, before his gaze met Alma’s. “You clearly can’t be left on your own – so someone needs to escort you back.”  
  
Alma’s mouth clamped shut. There had been a stark finality to Tyki’s words – almost as though they had been carved of stone. But what slammed into Alma even more was not just the sharpness to how Tyki spoke, but the implication: that he needed an escort, because he couldn’t be trusted to be on his own.  
  
Inside, the realization stung.  
  
Exhaling, Alma didn’t say anything. Tyki was looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for Alma to come along. Knowing that Tyki likely wouldn’t budge on the issue, Alma swallowed his pride as he began walking.  
  
Neither of them spoke, as they entered back into the ballroom. Once again, the grandeur of the ballroom came into sight, with the glittering lights and opulent music. Alma was already deluged, as he was bombarded by laughter, masked faces, and dancing…  
  
Akuma. There were akuma in that room.  
  
Tyki placed a hand behind Alma’s back, the touch steadying. Alma was suddenly aware of Tyki’s body close against his, the Noah shielding Alma from the rest of the attendees.   
  
Tyki moved quickly, as he guided Alma along the edge of the ballroom. They had to weave in and out through groups of people, on which several occasions people greeted Tyki. Tyki never spared anything more than a charming smile, as he kept himself close to Alma. They moved along until they reached the exit that led into the corridor.  
  
As soon as they were out in the hallway, Alma felt Tyki’s hand leave his back, a cold spot taking place in its absence. A sudden rush of vulnerability filled Alma, almost as though he had been stripped naked. Alma tried to repress his emotions, as he focused on looking ahead. The sound of his and Tyki’s footsteps echoed in his ears as they walked.  
  
Alma tried to keep quiet. He tried not to think about the way his heart was thudding in his chest, or the manner in which his stomach violently knotted itself. He tried not to think about how he felt.  
  
Alma was unsuccessful, and soon enough his own lips betrayed him. “Are you sure you won’t be missed?” he asked, his gaze averted.  
  
Tyki paused, as his golden eyes shifted over to Alma. He looked forward as he responded. “No.”  
  
Alma quietly exhaled. “I really can make it back to my room from here,” he spoke, words quiet. “It’s not like I’m allowed to go anywhere else…”  
  
Without missing a beat, Tyki retorted. “And whose fault is that?” he questioned smoothly. “When you break your word, and run into places you shouldn’t…”  
  
Shoulders tensing, Alma turned. There was a glare in his eyes, as he shot Tyki an incensed look. “I said I was _sorry_,” Alma argued, his voice beginning to rise a bit. “I told you that I was sorry, and that I was going to come _back_-“  
  
Alma cut off, a small gasp escaping him as he felt Tyki take his wrist. The Noah jerked it up slightly, causing Alma to stumble. Tyki didn’t let go though, as he tugged Alma around so that he was forced to face him directly.  
  
Alma turned still, as soon as his eyes met Tyki’s.   
  
Tyki’s gaze was intense – more so than Alma could describe. There was something deep in those molten gold irises. There was something so deep that Alma couldn’t even attempt to decipher what it was.   
  
It was overwhelming, and Alma felt his heartbeat start to quicken.  
  
Tyki didn’t look away, as he kept his grasp tightly around Alma’s wrist – so much, that there was a slight tremble in his hand.   
  
“Still lying,” Tyki accused, voice low and quiet. “Still lying, when you know that’s not true…”  
  
Alma’s breath caught, as something serrated skewed him from the inside out.   
  
Liar. Tyki still thought that Alma was a liar.   
  
Chest beginning to tremble, Alma swallowed. “I’m not…I’m not _lying,_” he emphasized, the words coming out shaky and brittle. Dully, Alma could feel a hot sting from behind his eyes, as he tried to continue. “I was coming back. I made a mistake, and I wanted to _apologize_-“  
  
Tyki laughed, sound deep and bitter. He lowered his head, as his shoulders shook, amusement wracking his body.   
  
“Why? Why would _you_ ever want to come back to apologize?” Tyki asked. “It’s no secret that you hate it here – you hate everything about this place so much that you were willing to risk your life in that maze for a chance to escape that didn’t even _exist_…”  
  
Alma stared. He couldn’t respond at first, completely stunned by Tyki’s words. Words that sounded oddly fragile in their pain, like cracked shards of glass carelessly discarded to the ground. Crumbling. _Sharp_. They jutted against Alma’s ears unbearably, and the slipped into his chest like needles laced in ice.  
  
Somehow, the words hurt Alma. They hurt even more so when he realized what Tyki was implying.  
  
Alma blinked, eyes still hot as he could feel moisture welling in his eyes.   
  
“But…I don’t hate you…” Alma said, words barely coming out in a murmur. “I don’t…”  
  
Alma’s chest shuddered, as he could feel his heart fracture. Like a twig breaking beneath stone, Alma’s strength collapsed. He couldn’t hold back any longer, vocal cords cracking as a tremor escaped his lungs, his cheeks growing slick as several tears fell from beneath his mask.  
  
“I don’t _hate_ you,” Alma repeated, words cracking as the tears continued to fall. “I…I don’t hate you, and that’s why I wanted to come_ back_...”  
  
There was another crack, as Alma’s composure disintegrated. Pitifully, the tears continued to stream down his face, his mask sticking to his cheeks uncomfortably and as his wrists remained tight in Tyki’s grasp. “I know I broke my promise and I shouldn’t have, but…but I swear I would take it back if I could, so _please_ don’t think I hate you…”  
  
Alma broke off again, as a weak sob fell forward. He shook, completely having lost himself to his own emotions, distraught and broken. He wasn’t even sure why he felt in such a way; after all, hadn’t Tyki been right? Alma hated the Underworld. He had hated being imprisoned, stolen away from the light, and having been confined and mocked. He had hated what the Noah had put him through, and for taking him away from his family…  
  
Alma hated this all, yet he didn’t hate Tyki. He couldn’t hate Tyki.  
  
As Alma fell apart, Tyki looked up. His expression was confused at first, and even a bit dumbfounded. Alma’s reaction was so raw and _genuine_…  
  
As he looked at Alma, Tyki’s gaze inevitably flickered to the necklace that Alma was wearing, which glinted in the darkness like a rope of stardust.  
  
Gingerly, Tyki took his other hand, as he brought his fingers to Alma’s cheek. Beneath his thumb, he could feel the wetness of Alma’s tears.  
  
Despite the circumstances, Tyki’s mouth twitched. His lips curled up, as a low, breathy hint of a chuckle escaped him.  
  
“You really are something…” Tyki murmured. “Someone like you crying over the likes of a Noah? Never thought I’d see the day…”  
  
Alma looked up, vision bleary. A confused expression remained on his face.  
  
Alma was left speechless, as soon as he felt Tyki’s lips upon his own.  
  
A surprised gasp escaped Alma, before it soon dissolved into a relaxed sign. Eyes closing, he felt himself lean into Tyki, their bodies pressing close against one another.   
  
Alma’s fingers gently clasped at the fabric of Tyki’s shoulder, as he pushed himself further against the Noah. A gentle moan escaped him, with Tyki’s tongue slipping into his mouth.   
  
Alma couldn’t resist. He couldn’t deny that deep down, he had been yearning for this moment – that he had been yearning for Tyki to kiss him, and for their bodies to be close once more. The last few days had been so cold and lonely. Alma had never felt so empty before. He had never felt so _hollow_…  
  
Unable to contain his neediness, Alma continued to latch onto Tyki. His own tongue snaked back into Tyki’s mouth, their teeth clattering against one another gently, the kiss growing messy in Alma’s fervent desire. Alma knew that he must have seemed pathetic; he was being sloppy and desperate, almost as though he had been starved for too long.  
  
Tyki broke the kiss, as he gasped for air. It worried Alma, at first – he wondered if perhaps he had been too greedy, and too forward. But, Tyki did not actually pull away. He instead leaned forward, his cheek pressing against Alma’s as he spoke lowly into his ear.  
  
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Tyki whispered.  
  
The words were soft, though they sent a shiver throughout Alma’s body. Heart jumping into his throat, he nodded.  
  
Tyki pulled back after that. His hand snaked down from Alma’s wrist as his fingers wrapped into Alma’s. The touch alone was enough to make Alma’s chest feel as though it were caging a thousand butterflies. Tyki’s grasp was so tender – Alma realized that he wasn’t sure if Tyki had ever held his hand like that before.  
  
Without saying anything, Tyki lead Alma down the corridor. They walked quickly, footsteps light as though they were carrying some secret that neither wanted to risk revealing. They made several turns, and soon entered into a wing that Alma noticed was unfamiliar.   
  
Like many other hallways, the ground was stone as were the walls – but these, he noticed, were inlaid with glossy jet and silver.  
  
Alma didn’t have a chance to focus on the appearance of the hall, as they eventually came to a heavy wooden door that was so dark it was nearly black. It looked just like any other door in the wing, with nothing too peculiar about its design that Alma could see – until he looked a bit more closely.  
  
When Alma did, he realized that there was no doorknob.  
  
Confusion filled Alma’s eyes, as he looked at Tyki. However, Tyki didn’t appear to notice, as he held onto Alma’s hand.  
  
Silently, Tyki walked on as he phased through the door – and in holding onto Alma, allowed the other deity to do the same.  
  
Alma shuddered. He felt himself pass through the door, the sensation a strange one. Gaze curious, he looked up to see where they had come to.  
  
A room. It was a bedroom, almost similar to the one Alma had. There was a large canopy bed, though the bedding consisted of dark shades of blue, and the curtains so dark they appeared to be woven of onyx. There was also a panel of glass doors, laced in silver as they led to what appeared to be an outside balcony. One door had been left cracked open, allowing for a cool draft to enter into the room, and a fireplace at the other end of the room remained unlit, causing the room to be even more enveloped in shadows.  
  
Silently, Alma realized that this was Tyki’s bedroom.  
  
Tyki released Alma’s hands, as he walked over beside a desk. On it were a few candles, of which Tyki waved his hand over. Immediately, they lit, the flames flickering softly as they offered just enough illumination to see.  
  
Tyki turned back to Alma and approached him. “No one should bother us here,” he said, as he brought a hand to caress the side of Alma’s face.  
  
As Tyki’s eyes found Alma’s, he stared at Alma somewhat quietly. His thumb rubbed in small, circular motions, pressing gently into the side of his cheek. After a moment, Tyki paused, his golden irises churning with some soft, quiet desire.  
  
Tyki took both of his hands as he carefully removed Alma’s mask. His eyes never once strayed from Alma’s, as his gaze shone with admiration.  
  
“You’re really beautiful,” Tyki murmured.  
  
Alma’s heart flipped in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to respond to such a compliment – not when Tyki had spoken the words so warmly, and so terribly sweetly.  
  
Before Alma could attempt to muster any kind of response, Tyki leaned in, his lips once more brushing against Alma’s. The kiss was slow; Tyki was incredibly languid in his movements, his pacing nowhere near as rushed as when they had been intimate before. Languidly, Tyki ran his hands along Alma’s harms as he continued to kiss Alma, each touch sweet and delicate.  
  
Alma sighed. His eyes closed, as he lost himself to the amorous touches. Placing his hands onto Tyki’s shoulders, he kissed back, his pace also slow to match Tyki’s.  
  
Tyki wrapped his hands around Alma’s waist, as he brought his lips onto Alma’s jaw, his teeth lightly tugging at the skin. As he did this, his hands slid down; the slacks Alma had been given for the Erebus were well fitted, and on the tighter side. The fabric clung to Alma’s hips in a flattering way, and Tyki could feel his hands rubbing all along them, savoring the slight curve of Alma’s body.  
  
Reaching farther back, Tyki’s hands squeezed, grasping tightly at Alma’s ass.  
  
A small gasp escaped Alma, before it melted into a gentle mewl. He whined, as he pushed his face forward, as he buried himself into Tyki’s shoulder.  
  
Still grabbing at Alma’s lower backside, Tyki hoisted Alma up. Tyki could feel Alma wrap his legs around his waist, as he clung to the Noah’s body. Tyki remained unfazed, as he carried Alma over to the bed; he gently lowered Alma onto his back, slipping off Alma’s boots before he kicked off his own.  
  
Alma looked up, as he watched Tyki crawl onto him. Tyki sat back slightly, his legs stretching over Alma’s thighs. His hands brushed against Alma’s chest, his fingers tracing down the intricate detailing of Alma’s clothing.   
  
In response, Alma reached up, his hands clasping at the front of Tyki’s shirt. Somewhat tentatively, Alma’s fingers danced across the front buttons, which he began to fumble with.  
  
Tyki caught Alma’s wrist. He eyed Alma through his mask, before he lowered Alma’s hands down, silently beckoning Alma to remain still.  
  
Alma complied. His insides tugged longingly, but he compiled.  
  
His obedience was rewarded as Tyki began to remove his clothing. First his mask, then his coat – all items were slipped off, and discarded elsewhere. Alma watched as Tyki continued to strip himself, motions slow and deliberate; in the darkness, Alma could see the ripples of Tyki’s muscles as he removed his shirt, with the pale scars marring his chest.  
  
Alma took a breath, his body feeling warm. He just wanted to touch Tyki, and to hold him _close_…  
  
Tyki finished stripping down to only his trousers. He stopped there, as he eyed Alma. A hungry gleam shone in his eyes, his hands once more finding their way to the front of Alma’s clothing, his fingers playing along the front clasps of Alma’s vest.  
  
There was a _click_, as Tyki began to undo the front of Alma’s clothing – first with the vest, and then the top. He didn’t rush, and he took his time; Alma could only remain still, watching Tyki undress him as he felt a tremor of excitement in his belly.  
  
Alma pushed himself up a bit, allowing for Tyki to slip off his shirt with ease. The air felt cool against his bare skin, his nipples puckering from the chill. However, Alma was soon distracted as he could feel Tyki’s fingers tug at the band of his slacks, his grip beginning to slowly shimmy them off of Alma.  
  
Alma lifted his hips, aiding Tyki in doing so. He went ahead and pushed down his own underwear.  
  
Tyki stared down at Alma, watching as Alma remained stretched out beneath him, completely bare and exposed, save for the necklace that glinted around Alma’s throat. His eyes traced along every curve, every muscle – every aspect of Alma’s body was taken in, appreciated with admiration and fondness.  
  
Leaning down, Tyki kissed Alma’s neck. He did so languidly, taking his time as he slowly dragged his tongue down – first to the collar bone, and then to Alma’s chest.  
  
Finally, Tyki reached Alma’s nipple, where he began to suckle.  
  
Alma inhaled. His knee bent a bit, as he felt a twitch in his cock, length beginning to stiffen as a warm pressure could be felt inside.   
  
A soft whine escaped Alma, as he rolled his face onto its side, pressing his cheek into the pillow. He could feel Tyki’s teeth gently pulling at his nipple, the nub becoming hard from Tyki’s play. Heavily, Alma breathed, as he slowly felt the temperature of his body rise, his blood growing hotter with each passing second.  
  
Tyki pulled back, having left a slight mark over Alma’s chest. He then moved over to the other nipple, once again suckling and nipping gently. Tyki’s fingers simultaneously clasped at Alma’s hipbones, his thumb pressing downward as he massaged small, tiny circles into Alma’s flesh.  
  
Another mewl escaped Alma, as he turned his face to the other side. The way Tyki was handling him was a tease – giving Alma small bits of pleasure, while leaving him yearning for more. In his right hip, Alma could feel a twitch, as his thigh jutted a bit. Alma’s hands clasped at the bedsheets for support.  
  
Tyki stopped, as he lifted his lips from Alma’s chest. His gaze rose to meet Alma’s hazed, blue eyes.   
  
Tyki’s attention only lingered for a few seconds, before he brushed his lips against Alma’s, his hips rolling forward, cock stiff beneath the confines of his trousers.   
  
Reaching down, Tyki began to undo the front of his slacks, slipping them off in addition to his underwear. He did so a bit more quickly, his cock having already hardened, tip twitching as its shaft pressed against Alma’s.  
  
Alma sucked in, still mid-kiss. He broke off though, hand brushing the side of Tyki’s face.   
  
“Tyki,” Alma began to say, words soft and breathless. “Tyki, wait.”  
  
Tyki paused, as his molted colored gaze flickered to meet Alma’s. There was a slightly perplexed look on his face, but he remained quiet, waiting patiently for whatever it was that Alma wanted to say.  
  
Alma didn’t speak immediately. There was a hesitant look in his eyes, as he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks already beginning to flush and eyes clouding with want. However, whatever it was that Alma wished to say was being held back, as an almost uneasy energy seemed to flitter about him.  
  
Tyki frowned, as he leaned forward a bit more. Taking his hand, he pressed it over Alma’s – the same one that Alma had taken to cup the side of Tyki’s face. Gingerly, Tyki ran his hand over Alma’s, as he spoke.   
  
“What is it?” he asked quietly.  
  
Alma still kept his gaze averted, and to Tyki’s surprise, he could see Alma’s blush deepen.  
  
Alma swallowed, as he finally spoke – though his words were tentative. “Let me…get on top,” Alma said, as he forced himself to look back at Tyki. “I…I want to be inside of you this time.”  
  
For a moment, Tyki looked surprised. His lips then twitched, as they gradually tugged into a slight smirk.   
  
“Really?” Tyki asked, before he brushed his lips against Alma’s ear. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”  
  
Alma’s heart leapt, as he felt Tyki push off of him. For a fleeting moment Alma was cold, his body bare against the chilly air; he sat up though, moving to the side as he shifted positions with Tyki. Sheets rumpling beneath them, Alma waited until Tyki was on his back before he moved, stretching his thighs over Tyki’s hips as he sat upright.   
  
Looking down, Alma’s vision traced over Tyki’s form, his body more beautiful than anything that Alma had ever seen. Inside his stomach, Alma could feel his nerves bundle anxiously.  
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed, as he looked up at Alma. There was still a small smirk on his lips, his eyes almost a little amused. Tyki refrained from commenting as he propped himself onto his elbows, leaning to the side so that he could reach over to the nightstand.  
  
Pulling a drawer open, Tyki grabbed a small jar before returning to his position. He unscrewed the cap, before he handed it to Alma. “You might want to use this – unless you prefer it rougher.”  
  
Alma faltered, though he took the jar. He dipped his fingers into the wet and slick contents, before he moved his hand to Tyki’s length, his hand running the substance over the shaft. Alma then repeated the motion, switching to coat his own erection, before he pushed both of their shafts together.  
  
Slowly, Alma began to squeeze them together.  
  
Tyki inhaled, his eyes closing as a pleasurable _ripple_ shuddered throughout his veins. There was a twitch in his legs, which only worsened as Alma continued to pump both of their erections, precum trickling out from the heads like small pearls.   
  
Taking his hand, Tyki brought it over Alma’s, as he squeezed at the base of their shafts harder. His hips rolled forward, pressing up against Alma’s.  
  
A shaky breath escaped Alma. He could feel his thighs tremble, a heat coiling in his gut as he watched Tyki below him, a sheen beginning to collect on his skin as his dark curls sprawled out on the bed below him. Honestly, the sight was mesmerizing; looking at Tyki below him alone was enough to cause Alma to lose himself, but he struggled to keep focus. Not until he finished what he said he had wanted to do.  
  
Taking his lubricated fingers, Alma reached down to Tyki’s backside. He felt a tremor of nervous excitement, as his fingertips brushed against the puckered rim of flesh. Biting his lip, Alma pressed down, as he slowly pushed his index finger inside.  
  
Tyki’s shoulder twitched, as his chest shuddered in delight. Golden eyes hazed, he looked at Alma. “Don’t just stop there, Flower Boy,” he encouraged.   
  
Alma wavered. Tyki sounded pleased, but a part of him was still nervous. “You’ll let me know if it hurts too much?”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “Trust me – I doubt you’re going to hurt me in that way.”  
  
Taking Tyki’s words as validation, Alma continued. He slowly began to pump his finger in and out of Tyki’s hole, while still grasping their erections with his other hand beneath Tyki’s. They continued this for a short while longer, the desire building in their veins and the want escalating – all until Alma finally slipped a second finger inside Tyki.  
  
Tyki shuddered, as he pumped their cocks harder. His pushed his hips forward as he felt Alma scissor into him, opening him up like a flower beginning to blossom.   
  
Alma continued on. He soon felt his cock throb, the pressure in his gut building swiftly. Knowing he would need to change positions soon, he pulled his fingers from Tyki’s backside, releasing his other hand off of their shafts.  
  
Shifting his body, Alma moved his legs so he could wrap Tyki’s thighs around his hips. In doing this, Alma felt the tip of his erection press against Tyki’s entrance, with Alma’s nerves rattling inside his chest.  
  
Tyki looked at Alma. Again, he smiled, gaze imploring. “Come on, Flower Boy,” Tyki urged. “You don’t have to hold back when you’re with me.”  
  
Alma looked up, his blue eyes meeting Tyki’s, Ffor a moment, he was left speechless; he was left speechless as he stared at Tyki, who was so exquisitely alluring as he remained stretched out before Alma, skin damp and hair mussed. Tyki was just so beautiful, and Alma just…  
  
Swallowing, Alma began to push in.  
  
Tyki sucked in a breath, as he felt Alma’s length slip into his backside. He adjusted to the feeling of Alma inside of him fairly quickly though, before he once more wrapped his hand around the base of his erection, veins protruding and precum dripping.  
  
Gradually, Tyki began to pump himself.  
  
Alma pulled out a bit – just enough that his shaft was still partially inside of Tyki. He did this, before pushing in again; slowly, Alma began to pump himself into Tyki.  
  
As he did this, Alma could feel his gut coil, like a rubber band waiting to snap. But, he kept pushing, as a tremor of a moan spilled from his throat.  
  
Tyki gritted his teeth. He pushed his body upward, rocking against Alma as he continued to work himself.   
  
“Faster,” Tyki spoke, words low and breathy. “Come on – I know you want to go faster than _that_.”  
  
Alma flushed, as a fire spilled throughout his veins. Seeing Tyki on his back, begging for him to go faster – there was something so inexplicably erotic about the sight, that Alma could feel his groin shudder with want.   
  
Quickly, Alma began to thrust himself into Tyki – rougher and more deeply, as he increased his speed.  
  
They continued to move like that, their bodies working into a rhythm as they sped up with each passing second. Each thrust became rougher, with their lungs straining as they panted, wordless pleas filling the air as their bodies pressed as closely together as possible. Hands gripped at flesh, toes curled – each movement became erratic, lined in desperation to reach that breaking point that was oh so close.  
  
Finally, Alma pushed himself the hardest he could – ramming himself into Tyki’s backside as he gripped at Tyki’s hips. His cheeks were pink and his back was lined with sweat, but Alma didn’t stop. He wanted Tyki. He wanted Tyki _so badly_-  
  
Tyki shuddered, cock throbbing and twitching before he gasped, grunting as he climaxed. His muscles twitched and trembled, with shuddered breaths of pleasure cascading from his lungs and hot seed spilling onto his taut abdomen.  
  
Alma watched. He watched ever tremor and every gasp, the sight so enchantingly _stunning_ that Alma could have watched it forever. It sent a surge of heat throughout Alma, sending him to the point of no return as the pressure in his gut finally _burst_, his hips jutting forward as he orgasmed. Cries and mewls spilled from his lips, his hands clasping onto Tyki’s body as Alma came inside of him.  
  
Once finished, Alma nearly collapsed onto Tyki’s body, legs weak and mind dazed. He pulled himself out though, his penis limp as residue oozed out from Tyki’s entrance.  
  
Tyki made no complaint, as he looked up at Alma. There was a hazed look in his normally sharp eyes, his lips slightly parted as he attempted to catch his breath.  
  
“Damn…” Tyki murmured, words barely audible.  
  
Alma blinked, as he shifted his body slightly. Moving onto his side, he leaned beside Tyki, just as he felt Tyki’s arm snake beneath him. Nestling even closer to Tyki, Alma placed a hand over Tyki’s chest, before he moved his face so that he could turn to look at Tyki.  
  
Their eyes met immediately, and Alma’s heart fluttered.  
  
“Tyki,” Alma began to say, voice quiet. “Tyki, I…”  
  
“Don’t say it.”  
  
Alma looked at Tyki, somewhat confused. When he did, he noticed that Tyki’s expression was different – that it was more serious, and intense.  
  
Never once blinking, Tyki spoke. “I know what you’re going to say,” he said quietly. “Don’t say it unless you’re certain.”  
  
Alma immediately wavered, as his throat ran dry. “Tyki…”  
  
Tyki pulled Alma close, as he kept his arm tight around Alma. Wordlessly, Tyki pressed his face into Alma’s hair.  
  
Alma said nothing more, as they remained beside one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. This chapter. Is officially the longest chapter I’ve ever written. XD (It ended up being 12.8K? Originally it was like 13.2K but I tried to nip what I could. >.>)
> 
> That aside, I _loved_ writing this chapter. It was one I was really looking forward to. When I first started plotting this story, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to incorporate a masquerade, but of course I ended up doing it. (This fic really has been pure self-indulgence - I didn’t want to hold back, especially since I’ve never written a story quite like this one before. X3) It ended up just feeling right with the flow of the story as a whole, and it served as a good way to bring Alma and Tyki back together.
> 
> Which, I really needed those two to make up. They both care for one another so much that it was really causing the agony of the last few chapters. Yes, they were both hurt, but they really can’t keep away from one another for too long? They’re in too deep, which is probably even more apparent considering the small exchange they have at the end of the chapter. *Cough*
> 
> Of course, Allen is now in the Underworld and coming for a reason...so that will be revealing itself soon. ;3 (But aaa! After this, just five more chapters? AAAA.)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this very lengthy chapter - feel free to leave any thoughts/comments. <3


	26. Ascending of a Flower

The Erebus was still in place when Sheril heard that a visitor was at the castle.  
  
It had been but a whisper into his ear; a messenger, quietly slipping him the news, as they beckoned Sheril from the festivities. Admittedly, Sheril was a bit intrigued. Guests were expected to arrive for the Erebus of course, but no one that warranted a special greeting. None that Sheril knew of.  
  
With this in mind, Sheril slipped away from the ball, discreet as he left to find out who this visitor was.  
  
The farther Sheril got from the ballroom, the more silent the air around him became. The clicking of his heels echoed, the corridors vast and empty. Despite the event of the Erebus, only the torches remained lit; the glittering remnants of the chandeliers above were dark and ghostly.  
  
Sheril entered into the entrance hall. The doors had been left open, allowing for a draft to enter inside. Sheril hardly noticed, his attention soon landing on the one individual in the room.  
  
Lips stretching into a smile, Sheril greeted the visitor in false fondness. “Allen Walker – we weren’t expecting to see you tonight.”  
  
Allen didn’t smile in return, his expression cool and collected. “I came here as per request of the Order,” he stated. “They have a message regarding Alma.”  
  
Sheril raised an eyebrow, interest piqued. “Oh? And just what is this message?”  
  
Reaching into the pouch attached to his belt, Allen pulled out a silver coin. He handed it to Sheril, eyes stony.  
  
Sheril took the coin. He swiftly removed the seal, allowing for the message to reveal itself in illuminated, teal writing. His sharp gaze scanned the document; quickly, Sheril’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he contents of the message sank in.  
  
Allen watched, carefully eying Sheril’s reaction. “As you can see, the Order has determined a fault in your blood contract,” Allen spoke calmly. “This means that the document is null, and that you are required to send Alma back immediately.”  
  
Sheril’s gaze flickered back up to meet Allen’s, eyes scalding. There was an intensity to the way he peered at Allen, lip twitching and muscles tense; a terribly dark rage glimmered in Sheril’s eyes. One that was almost uncontrollable, and even gave Allen pause-  
  
Quickly, Sheril calmed himself. “I see. What a dreadful oversight,” he spoke icily. “I’m afraid that sending the Chang back will have to wait until tomorrow. We’re currently in the midst of our Erebus, and I’d hate to pull him away just now.”  
  
Allen frowned. “I don’t think the Order would find it much of a reason to keep him-“  
  
“I must _insist_,” Sheril urged. “Come back tomorrow, and you may take him – you can escort him back to his family personally.”  
  
Allen’s scowl remained in place, eyes disapproving. However, he made no move to argue, and finally nodded in agreement. “Fine. I will return then,” Allen conceded.  
  
Sheril looked back at Allen. “You’re certainly welcome to stay,” he offered, words polite. “We only hold the Erebus once a year, after all.”  
  
Allen’s expression turned neutral, as his lips pressed into a thin line. “I think I’ll pass.”  
  
“Very well,” Sheril said. “Until tomorrow then.”  
  
Sheril watched, as Allen turned. He remained still, waiting until Allen was out the doors and out of sight, before Sheril started to briskly walk back toward the ballroom, gaze dark and stormy.  
  
Lord Millennium would not be pleased.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was close to dozing off in Tyki’s bed.  
  
They had remained in bed for some unknown amount of time following their amorous activities, with Tyki only having left once to grab a towel so that they could clean off. After that, neither of them had moved, their naked bodies pressing against one another beneath the bedsheets.  
  
Alma leaned onto Tyki. His head rested against Tyki’s shoulder, as the Noah remained seated with his back against the headboard. His fingers gently traced along Tyki’s chest, the pale scars once more drawing Alma’s attention.  
  
_‘They’re so big…’_ Alma thought, curiosity tickling his weary mind. Chest, arms – Tyki hadn’t been spared by whatever it was that had caused the scars. In fact, Alma couldn’t imagine what the damage must have been like initially. To have been left with so many _marks_…  
  
Alma stilled, as he felt Tyki’s hand brush over his own. Blinking, Alma looked up to meet Tyki’s gaze.  
  
A small smirk tugged at Tyki’s lips. “Do they bother you?”  
  
Alma flushed, as he looked away somewhat sheepishly. “No,” he rushed, the response coming out in a quick murmur.  
  
Tyki chuckled. “You keep staring.”  
  
Alma’s blush deepened, as guilt pinch his insides. “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to,” Alma apologized. He turned his face back to Tyki, as he looked at him with an inquiring gaze. “I just…keep wondering how it happened? You have so many scars…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He held Alma’s gaze, smirk dying as something strange flickered in his eyes – somewhat distant, and far-off.  
  
“It happened because I was doing what I was supposed to,” Tyki finally spoke. “And the Order wasn’t too happy about it.”  
  
Alma’s stomach knotted. Although Tyki had not gone into detail, the vague wording was somehow enough to signify that something terrible had happened involving the Order – something that Alma was anxious to find out.   
  
But, there was another impulse in Alma – a stronger one. One where he longed to reach out to Tyki, and to comfort him.  
  
“Will you tell me?” Alma asked. “Will you tell me what happened?”  
  
Tyki turned toward Alma curiously. He shifted his gaze forward, eyes turning pensive. “I’m sure your family already told you enough about our actions-“  
  
Alma shook his head. “No – no, I want to hear it from _you_,” Alma emphasized, as he took Tyki’s hand. Imploringly, he looked at Tyki. “I want to hear _your_ side. I…I just want to know what happened.”  
  
Tyki paused, his attention shifting back at Alma. There was a slightly surprised look on his face, his eyes trapped by Alma’s pleading gaze.  
  
A beat of a second passed, and Tyki sighed. “You really are hard to say no to with that face,” he murmured.  
  
Alma frowned. He opened his mouth to speak-  
  
“I spent a lot of time in the mortal world.”  
  
Alma went quiet. Intrigue filled his eyes, as he once more recalled what Lala had told him weeks ago about Tyki have interacted with the humans; Alma had often wondered about it, but never asked.   
  
Tyki broke eye contact, as he continued. “It wasn’t much at first. I just did it to get away and do my own thing. Even hung out with these two guys. Kind of rough, but I liked them.”  
  
As Tyki spoke, that distant look once more returned to his eyes. “There was a kid, too. Really young and didn’t say too much. He got sick a lot, so he usually covered his mouth with this old scarf,” Tyki went on. “Don’t know what happened to his family. He just sort of hung around, and became part of the group. Nice kid though. You could have given him an old coin and he’d act like you’d just given him gold.”  
  
Alma continued to listen. He was honestly somewhat surprised by all that Tyki was saying. While Alma had understood that Tyki had gone among humans at one point, he hadn’t expected Tyki to be so…_amiable_ with them. From what Alma had been told, the Noah resented humans and wanted to destroy them. They didn’t care for them.  
  
At this point, Alma noticed that Tyki had reached a pause in his story. Looking up, Alma squeezed Tyki’s shoulder.   
  
“What happened?” Alma asked, words soft.  
  
Tyki’s lips upturned. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and when he spoke, there was a strange frostiness to his words.  
  
“Your family and the Order constantly preach about protecting humans at all costs, as though they’re innocent and can do no wrong,” Tyki spoke. “But the truth is, humans are some of the vilest creatures, even to each other.”  
  
As Tyki said this, a chill rippled throughout Alma. He instinctively wanted to cling closer to Tyki, but their bodies were already pressed against one another. Instead, Alma could only tighten his grip on Tyki as he remained quiet.  
  
Tyki leaned back against the headboard, eyes far-off as though he were lost in a distant memory. “I left for a while. It wasn’t like I could play human every day. There was so much tension about that damn barrier the Order wanted your family to put up so they could _regulate_ us.”  
  
There was a clip of bitterness to the last word, and Alma fought a wince. He had vague memories of being a child, and of when the barrier was first being created. They were very distant recollections though, often consisting of nothing more than half-whispered conversations he might have overheard as a child. Alma only knew for certain that the barrier hadn’t been solidified until sometime eleven years ago.  
  
“They were worried about the humans,” Alma spoke, somewhat quietly. “They said that your family was…punishing them, before their time came.”  
  
Tyki scoffed, a low sneer spilling from his lips. “Before their time came…”  
  
Alma bit his lip and said nothing more.  
  
“Before I left for that time, I gave the kid a gemstone. There are so many down here, I hadn’t thought about it – it made him happy, so I gave it to him. Told him to do whatever he wanted with it,” Tyki said, his words growing even quieter. Tenser. “But after I left…”  
  
Tyki trailed off, as he took a breath – almost as though he were trying to keep himself steady. “A few of the humans had found out about it. Thought the kid was hiding more,” Tyki said. “And when the kid didn’t have anything to show for, they beat him. Probably died quickly what with how sick he always was.”  
  
Alma stared, expression horror-stricken. He didn’t even know how to respond – he could only stare, his mouth slightly open as the shock of Tyki’s words rested upon his ears.  
  
A child. A small human child had been…  
  
“When I came back, the other humans I knew told me what happened,” Tyki explained coldly. “I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten so angry...I was so disgusted…”  
  
Alma swallowed. He was still listening, but could feel his insides stewing anxiously. “What…what did you do…?”  
  
Tyki chuckled, the sound devoid of any amusement and soft. “What do you think I did? I killed them. I found them, and killed every single one,” he spoke, admitting his actions with a terrible ease. “I killed them, and then the Order tried to kill me. Guess I stepped out of line in their eyes.”  
  
Pausing, Tyki turned to Alma, golden eyes still sharp. “Your grandfather was there actually. Came with some CROWs – probably one of the reasons my family hates yours.”  
  
Alma sat up. His expression was still stunned, as he looked at Tyki in disbelief. “But…why couldn’t you have explained to the Order what had happened? You wouldn’t have had to kill the humans, and my grandfather would have helped-“  
  
Tyki laughed. “You honestly think they would have? You should know how black and white the Order’s way of thinking is,” Tyki spoke. “To them, it doesn’t matter how heinous the humans become. They can’t be judged or dealt with until death. Which is why we _Noah_ are confined here.”  
  
Alma remained wordless, as he stared at Tyki. The shock lingered, as Alma strained to process Tyki’s story. How he had known several humans, how he had killed several, how his grandfather had played a role in punishing Tyki…  
  
Tyki eyed Alma, carefully gaging each shift in expression. His gaze turned oddly cool. “Thought you’d be disgusted to hear about it. Probably why I didn’t rush to tell you right away,” he spoke calmly. “Don’t worry though – I won’t keep you from leaving.”  
  
Alma blinked, once more taken aback by Tyki’s words. He opened his mouth, his voice threatening to hitch in his throat.  
  
“I…I don’t want to leave,” Alma said, as he tried to even think of what it was that he wanted to say. “I just…”  
  
Alma was conflicted – more so than he had ever felt before. He knew that killing was wrong. He knew that it was something he should have been horrified by – but, Tyki hadn’t done so blindly, and what the humans had done had been so _terrible_…  
  
Alma should have been disgusted, like Tyki said. He should have gotten out of bed and left, hurrying back to his room before this went too far. But it already had gone too far, hadn’t it? That was why Alma was there, in bed with Tyki even after all that had happened. Listening to his side of things, his heart aching inside as a single thought passed through his mind.  
  
_‘What was it like to have found that child dead…?’_  
  
The thought slammed into Alma so viciously, that he could feel the all too familiar sting of unshed tears behind his eyes. But he couldn’t help it. All Alma could do was think about Tyki, and what that grief must have felt like, and how horrible it must have been to have nearly been killed for his actions.  
  
Silently, Alma wondered why the Order – why his _grandfather_ – wouldn’t have listened.  
  
Taking a small breath, Alma looked down, his hands once more tracing along the scars. Large, pale, jagged…  
  
“I’m…I’m sorry…” Alma finally spoke, as he looked down. “I’m just…I’m sorry…”  
  
There was a slight shakiness to his voice, and Alma realized that he was getting emotional. He fought back though, not wanting to fall apart yet again in front of Tyki – not when he wasn’t the one who had been hurt, and who had been put through such misery.  
  
Alma tried to be strong, but stubbornly tears welled in his eyes.  
  
Gently, Tyki’s hand wrapped over Alma’s. He glanced down at Alma, as several dark curls fell in front of his face, his eyes pensive and distant.  
  
“Don’t apologize,” Tyki spoke quietly. “It happened, and that was eleven years ago. I’ve come to terms with it.”  
  
Alma was still looking down. By some miracle, he had just barely been able to maintain his composure, with no tears having yet fallen. His breathing was a bit shallow though, and his eyes contemplative.  
  
“Eleven years ago…an akuma attacked my family,” Alma spoke, voice barely audible. “But I don’t remember that night, and my parents said it was killed outside…”  
  
Tyki’s eyes remained on Alma, as he didn’t say anything. Then, he wrapped his arms around Alma, pulling him close.  
  
“Let’s stop talking for a bit,” Tyki said, voice gentle. “It’s late…”  
  
Alma nodded, as he nestled himself close against Tyki’s body. He placed his head back against Tyki’s chest, the faint thumping of Tyki’s heartbeat pulsating in his ears.  
  
Neither of them said anything after that.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
After the Erebus, the castle was quiet once more.  
  
Soundless. Silent. The guests had stayed well into the night, but departed gradually, returning to the shadows like ghosts fading away into a misty haze. The music faded, and the dancing ceased. The festivities drew to an end as morning approached, the Underworld still as black as night by time dawn struck.  
  
In the castle, some were still awake.  
  
A study in one of the castle wings was occupied. Old texts lined bookshelves, with parchment and ink sprawled out along a writing desk. Candles flickered while the orange and yellow flames casted a glow amongst the study. Thick curtains were drawn, and the furniture was lined in velvet.  
  
Sheril was there. He was seated in a chair, of which was in front of the desk, and across from the other occupant in the room.  
  
The Millennium Earl eyed Sheril. He was still in his human form, grotesque mask discarded as he sat behind the desk, his elbow resting on the wood. There was a severe look in his eyes, which gleamed like acidic amber in the darkness, his jovial nature completely absent as he peered at Sheril.  
  
“So, there was a loophole,” the Earl spoke, words low.  
  
Sheril’s lip twitched, eyes brimming with irritation. He had been stewing ever since Allen came by, his blood boiling at the mere thought of having been foiled by his own contract.  
  
However, Sheril forced himself to keep his tone in check, as he spoke to the Earl. “It appears so. Apparently, someone finally revealed to the Order that the boy was previously marked by dark matter, voiding any consent. Allen Walker will be returning later to collect the Chang.”  
  
The Earl exhaled heavily. “It’s a shame. I actually rather liked having the little moonflower around.”  
  
“It’s a shame that this may have been for _nothing_,” Sheril clipped. “We’re being forced to give back whatever leverage we may have had in removing that damned barrier.”  
  
The Earl chuckled. “Don’t be so quick to act as though this were for nothing,” he said, before his mouth stretched into a smile. “We still have a few hours. The game’s not over yet.”  
  
Sheril’s eyes flashed, as intrigue brimmed in his eyes. He appeared as though he were about to question the Earl, but a knock interrupted his thoughts.  
  
Looking up toward the door, the Earl spoke. “Yes?”  
  
The door opened, and Road walked in. “I thought I heard voices,” she said, as she smiled coyly at them. “What are you two talking about?”  
  
“Oh, it seems our guest is finally returning home,” the Earl drawled out. “Sheril and I of course are a bit disappointed…”  
  
Sheril sneered under his breath. “It’ll have been a _waste_.”  
  
Road raised an eyebrow, as she glanced between Sheril and the Earl. However, her lips curled into a tiny smile, as she leaned back onto the divan. “Oh? Maybe I could help,” Road suggested. “I could…try something.”  
  
Immediately, the Earl’s eyes gleamed. His mouth stretched into an approving grin, as his eyes shone brightly.  
  
“By all means,” the Earl said. “If you can think of anything, do as you will. Whatever you can to help the family.”  
  
Road’s smile broadened, as her teeth gleamed in the darkness.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Alma woke up, he was still in Tyki’s room. His body was twisted into silken sheets, the side of his face pressing against the soft, feather-stuffed pillow. Shifting a bit, Alma rolled over; a sleepy sigh escaped him, his arm reaching over as his eyes blinked open.  
  
As Alma’s hand reached over to grab at nothing, he realized that Tyki was not in bed.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, Alma pushed himself up. His vision grew in clarity as his awareness returned more fully, his attention shifting about the room. The candles were still lit, but Tyki was nowhere in sight.  
  
Confusion filled Alma. “Tyki?” he called, not sure where Tyki had gone off to. He moved a bit in bed, with only the sheets to cover his still naked body. Had Tyki left somewhere?  
  
After a second of glancing around, Alma noticed a sheet of parchment on the nightstand. Taking it, Alma could see several words scribbled.  
  
_Be back soon._  
  
A small smile tugged at Alma’s lips, his heart touched by the thoughtfulness of the note. Leaning back against the headboard, Alma continued to look at it, his fingers gently tracing along the handwriting.  
  
There was a sudden knock at the door, causing Alma to jump. He looked, somewhat wide-eyed to where the door was, his heart thumping anxiously. It wasn’t Tyki, was it? No, Tyki would have just walked through the door if it was him.  
  
There was a pause, before the knocking continued. Alma bit the inside of his cheek as he squirmed a bit. It was Tyki’s room, but the knocking seemed urgent-  
  
“Lord Tyki?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he recognized Lala’s voice. Hurriedly, Alma looked around. He wasn’t dressed, and he needed clothes-  
  
Quickly, Alma spotted what appeared to be a dark, silk robe tossed over a chair. He grabbed it before he slipped it on, tying the ribbon around his waist as he walked over to the door. At first, Alma was a bit worried; when he had come to Tyki’s room the previous night, he had seen there was no knob on the outside of the door. However, when Alma looked, he was relieved to see that there _was_ one on the inside.  
  
Taking the knob, Alma opened the door.  
  
On the other side, Lala was there. She looked taken by surprise, her one good eye shining with confusion. “Alma?”  
  
Alma’s cheeks flushed, as he scratched the back of his head. “Um…yeah,” he said, not even sure how he could explain why he was in Tyki’s bedroom. “Ah, Tyki’s not here, but I heard you and didn’t want you to worry…is everything okay?”  
  
Lala appeared to regain her focus, as she collected herself. She looked at Alma, eyes somewhat wary. “Actually…I was looking for you. But you weren’t in your room, so I came to ask Lord Tyki if he knew where you were.”  
  
Taking a breath, Lala continued. “I was just told Allen Walker will be arriving today – he’s coming to take you back home.”  
  
Alma froze. He stared at Lala, looking somewhat dumbly as his mouth hung open, his mind straining to process what he had just heard. Because surely Alma had heard wrong, hadn’t he? He had misunderstood, still half-asleep and too tired to think straight. He had misunderstood, and-  
  
_‘Home…’_  
  
Lala didn’t say anything, as she watched Alma take in the news. His eyes were wide, dazed by surprise and bewilderment. Realizing that Alma was struggling to digest the news, she gently spoke up.  
  
“We should probably return to your room – you’ll need to get ready for when you have to leave,” Lala said. “I’m not sure what time Allen will be here.”  
  
Alma’s attention snapped back to Lala. Somehow, the gentle instruction had been like a shower of ice-cold water falling over his body: an abrupt, shocking sensation that suddenly awoke Alma from a warm daze. He felt the reality settling in – the very reality that he had wished to come to pass for days now.  
  
Home. He was going home.  
  
“I…I really am going back?” Alma asked, the words barely audible as they left his lips.   
  
His family. His mother, his father – Alma hadn’t seen them in so long. It had been over a month and a half since he had last seen them, and since he had seen Fou, and the nymphs, and been back beneath the _sun_. It had been so long that Alma’s heart ached at the thought of finally being able to see them all again, to be back in that warm sense of familiarity, and be back in somewhere that was _safe_-  
  
Tyki’s face flashed in Alma’s thoughts, causing his heart to falter abruptly.  
  
Coming from his daze, Alma looked back at Lala. “I…Tyki was going to be back soon,” Alma said, as he felt a sudden urge to wait for the Noah.   
  
Lala’s expression was sympathetic. “I’m sure we can find Lord Tyki before you leave,” she reassured Alma. “But you really should go back to your room to get cleaned up.”  
  
Alma wavered, as he bit his lip. He immediately felt a tug inside, his instincts divided. One side of Alma was willing to listen to Lala – to go back, and to get cleaned up, and ready to go home. But the other side of Alma…resisted. There was just this urge to wait, and to at least speak to Tyki.  
  
Alma clasped at his wrist. Tyki. If he left…  
  
Again, Lala spoke, her words still gentle yet imploring. “Let’s go back now – that way, you’ll have time to speak to Lord Tyki before you leave.”  
  
Alma paused. He knew that Lala was only being logical, and doing her best to help. Mutely, he nodded his head.  
  
Before they could linger any longer, Lala escorted Alma back to his room.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Tyki returned to his bedroom, Alma was gone.  
  
Tyki frowned. He wasn’t sure where Alma had gone; his clothing from the Erebus were still discarded on the ground, and Alma wasn’t in the bathing room connected to Tyki’s bedroom. Glancing around, Tyki _did_ notice that one of his robes was missing – perhaps Alma had borrowed it.  
  
Even so, that still didn’t explain as to where Alma _was_.  
  
Exhaling, Tyki took the few evening primrose flowers he had gotten from the garden outside and placed them on the nightstand.   
  
Tyki turned, as he phased through the door leading back out into the hallway. He glanced around, once more trying to determine where Alma might have wandered off to. Eyes pensive, Tyki wondered if Alma may have somehow made his way back to his room. He certainly couldn’t think of where else Alma would have gone off to.  
  
_‘Shouldn’t be wandering around in this area…’_ Tyki thought.  
  
Tyki walked, hands shoving into his pockets. Although his movements were languid, his eyes were sharp, his sight scanning the shadows as he walked on.  
  
It was oddly quiet in that area of the castle – which seemed even more prominent when Tyki thought about the fact that there had been a party the night before. It caused a strange, ghostly air to loom throughout the halls, twisting into the darkness as only dimly lit torches continued to flicker on. Soundless whispers, distant echoes. Sometimes, the castle felt so empty…  
  
Even to Tyki.  
  
Pushing such thoughts aside, Tyki walked on, turning the corner as the hallway spit in two.  
  
Tyki stopped, just as he saw a familiar face.   
  
“Wisely,” Tyki greeted, as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Have fun last night?”  
  
Wisely shrugged, as he crossed his arms. He was heading in the direction that Tyki had just come from, back near where more of the bedrooms were. “I suppose,” Wisely said. “Can’t say it was my favorite thing with how loud it was, but dressing up was nice.”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “Of course you’d like that part. Anything to coddle your vanity.”  
  
Wisely huffed, as he glared at Tyki. “It’s not my fault if I actually looked cute,” Wisely said, before he gave Tyki a sharp look. “Besides,_ you’re_ one to talk – you danced with _how_ many people last night?”  
  
“That has nothing to do with vanity – just likability,” Tyki quipped. “But I should get going.”  
  
As Tyki said this, he began to move past Wisely, continuing on his way without a second thought. However, Wisely’s eyes flashed; he turned toward Tyki, his voice breaking the silence of the corridor.  
  
“If you’re looking for the Chang, you better be quick,” Wisely spoke.   
  
Tyki stopped walking. Turning back around, he looked over at Wisely, eyes narrowed and words cautious. “Why’s that?”  
  
Wisely’s lips quirked upward. “I had a feeling you hadn’t heard,” he said. “But it looks like the Chang is finally being sent back to his family today.”  
  
Tyki stilled, his body turning rigid. In his ears, he could hear Wisely’s words echo like a gentle whisper – one that was faint, yet scraped against his ears like needles dragging upon iron.   
  
Back. Alma was being sent _back_-  
  
The thought piercing through Tyki like a blade, he blocked out the sensation immediately, as he refocused on the conversation at hand.  
  
“Why?” Tyki asked, his tone turning dubious. “I thought Sheril had a blood contract. Or has the Order suddenly bent to our demands?”  
  
Wisely laughed. “As if – the Order has too much pride,” he said. “But it appears they found a loophole. Needless to say, Sheril has been seething all morning.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He had gone strangely quiet, expression unreadable as his eyes remained on Wisely for a moment longer.  
  
Then, without speaking, Tyki turned as he swiftly began to walk down the corridor.  
  
Raising and eyebrow, Wisely watched. However, he too remained quiet, as he departed in the opposite direction.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma hadn’t been able to think straight all morning – not ever since Lala had come to collect him from Tyki’s room, telling Alma the news. Now in his bedroom, Alma remained in a daze, quiet and with a far-off look in his eyes. It was almost as if he were half-asleep, with one foot in a dream and another in reality.  
  
Back. He was being sent _back_.  
  
Alma fumbled with the fabric of his chiton – a pale, pinkish cream with a golden belt. Alma had recognized his old chiton immediately, though the belt had been a surprise. It wasn’t one he had ever worn before, but Lala had reassured him that it was meant for him to take – a parting gift from the Millennium Earl. It made Alma feel strange though. He didn’t care for gifts from the Earl, or any gifts from the Noah. None, except for…  
  
Lifting his hand to his neck, Alma felt the diamond necklace that Tyki had given him, the stones still cool against his skin. _‘Tyki…’_  
  
Alma lowered his hand, as he glanced out of the window of his room. Outside, he could see the darkness of the Underworld stretching on, cold and endless. It was an abyss of death and shadowy specters, imprisoned beneath the world of the living and hidden far from the light of day. It was a terrible, empty place. And it was a place that Alma should have been relieved to leave.  
  
Should have.  
  
No – no, he _was_ relieved. He was relieved, and he would finally see his family again. His family who he had missed so dearly, and his family who had probably been worried sick over his well-being. Alma was relieved, and he was _happy_.   
  
Alma kept telling himself this. He kept telling himself this, but in his chest he felt hollow.  
  
Alma didn’t understand it. He didn’t like the Underworld – he had been _miserable_ there. It was such a frightening place, and the Noah had been so horrid to him. They had taunted him and humiliated him, while forcing him to be their doll as they toyed with him mercilessly. It was wretched, and Alma should have been _elated_…  
  
He kept thinking of Tyki.  
  
Again, Alma’s fingers brushed against his necklace, his thoughts lingering on Tyki. Tyki, who Alma had come to trust. Tyki, who Alma had come to _care_ for.  
  
Tyki, who Alma would probably never see again.  
  
The realization was a knife into Alma’s heart. Once he left, he would have no way of ever speaking to Tyki. Alma already knew that no matter what he said, his family would never allow it – in fact, they would probably never allow Alma to go _anywhere_ after this. They would strive to keep him close, with Alma once more being placed back into his safe little meadow, hidden away from everyone and everything.  
  
No. No, Alma would never be allowed to speak to Tyki after this.  
  
The realization was crushing – more so than what Alma would have liked to have admit. But, he couldn’t stop himself. Alma couldn’t stop thinking about Tyki holding him close, whispering sweet words into his ears as their bodies rested beside one another. He couldn’t stop thinking about Tyki’s hands in his hair, his touch gentle as his breath grazed Alma’s skin.  
  
All of that, only for it to never happen again.  
  
Like a stone dropped into a pool of water, Alma felt his heart sink. He…he didn’t want to say goodbye to Tyki. He didn’t want to go away, and never see him again…  
  
_‘Stop it,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘Stop it! You _have_ to go back – you have to go back to your _family_!’_  
  
Alma didn’t know what to think. Was it normal to feel such a way? Was it normal for him to be conflicted? He had only known Tyki for not even two months, and yet here he was _wavering_.  
  
Alma exhaled, chest aching. He glanced back around the room – the very room that the Noah had imprisoned him, which had been nothing more than a gilded cage. Inevitably, Alma’s eyes wandered to the door. Lala had departed a little while ago, having left Alma some breakfast before she went to see to a few tasks.  
  
Until then, Alma was to stay in his room. He was to stay there, until Allen came to collect him.  
  
Where was Tyki though? Lala had mentioned that she would try to find him, and to let Tyki know that Alma would be leaving. However, Tyki had yet to come by.  
  
Alma was worried. Had Lala been able to find him? Had Tyki come back to an empty bedroom, only to look for Alma elsewhere? As Alma’s thoughts spun, he felt a small panic begin to bubble in his chest. What if Alma had to leave before he could see Tyki again?  
  
The thought was unbearable, and Alma stood. He had told Lala he would stay put, but Alma needed to speak to Tyki. He needed to see him.  
  
The two teases that Alma had fluttered beside him, causing Alma to stop. Glancing between them, Alma spoke. “I need to see Tyki,” he explained. “I know Lala told me to wait, but…”  
  
The teases fluttered quietly, before they moved. Swiftly, they flew over to the door, as they turned back to Alma.  
  
Blinking, Alma tried to understand. “You can get Tyki for me?” he asked, a tinge of hope filling his chest.  
  
The teases hovered, moving in a slight up and down motion as though to signify a “yes.”  
  
Hurriedly, Alma rushed to the door. “Thank you,” he told them, words leaden with appreciation. He opened the door for the teases. “I can wait here-“  
  
Alma cut off, a slight gasp escaping him as he spotted someone standing just outside the door. The sight had completely caught him off guard, with even more alarm filling his veins when he saw who it was.  
  
Road.  
  
Road smiled. “Hi, Alma,” she greeted, eyes coy as though she were harboring some wicked little secret. “Were you going somewhere?”  
  
Alma wavered. “No,” he said, as his blue eyes flashed toward the teases. Quickly, they fluttered into the hall without being noticed, and Alma returned his attention to Road. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Road’s smile remained in place, as she kept her hands behind her back. As she did this, Alma wondered if she were concealing something. “Oh, I just wanted to come visit,” she said. “After all, you _are_ leaving today, aren’t you? You must be so happy.”  
  
Alma’s words caught in his throat, as he stared back at Road. Although her smile was in place, there was not a hint of kindness in her words. And even if there was, Alma didn’t trust Road – there was no way he would trust her after she had tricked him into breaking his promise to Tyki and entering the maze.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now-“  
  
“Really?”  
  
Alma jumped, as he suddenly heard Road’s voice from behind him. Startled, he saw that Road was not in front of him any longer; whirling around, Alma was shocked to see that she had somehow appeared in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed as she kicked her legs daintily.  
  
Exhaling, Alma stood his ground. “Road, get _out_ of my room.”  
  
Road brought a hand to her heart, as she feigned a surprised look. “Alma, you sound so _harsh_ – here I thought you’d be more polite,” she said, while still keeping her other hand behind her. “After all, I only came because I have something for you.”  
  
Alma faltered at this. He quickly caught himself though, as he frowned in Road’s direction. “I don’t want anything from you,” he said, words terse. “Now please _leave_-“  
  
“You haven’t even let me tell you what it is,” Road said, as she sat more upright. Tilting her head, she batted her eyes, as she smiled at Alma sweetly. “Please, Alma? I actually do feel so badly about what happened with the maze….I’d love to make it up to you.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. He still didn’t trust Road, or believe that she was there out of any good will. Alma had learned his lesson already, and he wasn’t about to let Road play some cruel trick on him yet again.  
  
However, Alma also knew well enough that Road _wouldn’t_ go easily. If anything, playing along would probably be the only way to make her leave.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma spoke. His eyes were wary as he did so. “What…what did you bring?”  
  
Road’s smile broadened, as she pulled out something from behind her back-  
  
Alma stilled.  
  
It was red, and circular – some kind of fruit it looked like. It wasn’t any kind that Alma was familiar with, though something tugged in the back of his mind…  
  
Suddenly, it hit Alma.  
  
The maze. The strange courtyard with the trees. The trees had bore that same red fruit, with the red so deep that it had been piercing to see.  
  
A rush of unease filling Alma, he felt the urge to take a step back. “Wh-what is it?” he asked, unable to keep his voice from tremoring.  
  
Road’s eyes gleamed, as she clasped the red fruit with both hands. “It’s called a pomegranate,” she said. “We have some trees that grow them – I think you might have seen them in the maze.”  
  
As soon as Road confirmed where the pomegranate was from, Alma felt his insides churn. “I don’t want it,” he spoke, words quick.  
  
Road giggled softly. “You haven’t even let me explain,” she said, before she waved her hand over the pomegranate. There was a wisp of red smoke, before the pomegranate turned into a vial. It was a clear, glass one, of which contained to be a bunch of red, jewel-like seeds. Arils.  
  
Without warning, Road tossed the vial to Alma. He clumsily caught it, his reflexes pushing him to do so despite his reservation to even touch the thing. Confused, Alma looked at the vial in his hands, of which he was able to see the pomegranate seeds glistening.  
  
Alma looked over at Road, completely bewildered. “I don’t understand…what am I supposed to do with them?”  
  
Road grinned. “You eat them, of course.”  
  
Alma tensed. He shook his head, a frown appearing on his face. “I can’t,” he said. “They’re from the Underworld – I’m not going to eat them!”  
  
Another giggle fell from Road’s lips, as she leaned back onto the bed. “I never said you _had_ to,” she said, as her eyes rested on Alma. “But I thought you’d want them…if you change your mind.”  
  
Alma’s brow furrowed. “Why would I do that?”  
  
“Mmm, I don’t know,” Road said, as she crossed her legs. “I just thought you might want to see Tyki again. Won’t you miss him?”  
  
Hearing this, Alma froze. His body was so still that even his breath halted, Road’s words ultimately striking a chord deep within Alma.  
  
Road’s smile remained in place. “You know that once you go home, your family will never let you leave. And they certainly would never let you speak to a _Noah_ again,” she spoke, as she tilted her head to the side. “Could you really bear it? Not being able to speak to someone you’ve fallen in love with _ever _again?”  
  
It was as though a _slap_ had struck Alma in the face, his eyes widening with shock. While already the thought of leaving had already been a knife into Alma’s chest, Road’s words had been the hand to twist it, jerking the blade even deeper into Alma’s heart.   
  
Tyki. Alma would miss Tyki _so much_…  
  
Clasping the vial in his hand, Alma could feel his breaths strain a bit, muscles tense and limbs shaky. “I…”  
  
Alma shook his head. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, words coming out pitifully. “You don’t…you don’t actually _care_. You’re doing this for something else-“  
  
“Am I?” Road asked. A strange look appeared in her eyes, the cruelty momentarily fracturing. For a fleeting second, Alma thought he caught sight of something else.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, and he broke eye contact with Road.  
  
A small smirk tugged at Road’s lips, as she hopped off of the bed. Walking over to Alma, she spoke. “You might want to hold onto them – maybe the heartbreak will be too much for you.”  
  
Alma clutched at the vial, his grasp trembling. No. No, he could never consume anything from the Underworld. He could _never…_  
  
Road eyed Alma a second longer, before she moved past him, as she started toward the door. “Think about it,” she urged.  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he heard Road shut the door behind him. In his hand, the cold vial remained in his grasp, his hold still shaking gently. _‘I can’t...’_  
  
Alma didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t consume the seeds – it would latch him to the Underworld, forever tying him to the dark, icy realm. It would cut him off from his family, from every being beneath the sun…  
  
Alma couldn’t eat the seeds. He couldn’t eat them, no matter how in love with Tyki he was. He couldn’t eat them, because he was too afraid.   
  
Slinking down to his knees, Alma still held the vial. _‘I can’t…’_  
  
Alma couldn’t bring himself to discard the vial.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Tyki hadn’t found Alma yet.  
  
It wasn’t because he couldn’t. He had already heard that Alma had been taken back to his room by Lala, left there to wait patiently until Allen came to collect him. It would have been easy for Tyki to catch Alma, too; he only would have had to go to his room, walk through that door, and Alma would have been right there. Alma would have been right there, with those sweet blue eyes, and that adoring smile…  
  
Tyki knew this, but he didn’t go to see Alma. He didn’t bother.  
  
He knew it was selfish. The two teases that Tyki had given Alma had found him, whispering in his ear that Alma wanted to see Tyki. They had come to Tyki, quietly imploring him to go to Alma, and to see him before he left.  
  
Tyki didn’t do it.  
  
Ignoring the teases, Tyki flicked them away with his fingers as they wisped into smoke. They dissolved, rematerializing a short distance away; they left Tyki be, flying back as they went on their way to return to Alma.  
  
As the teases left, Tyki exhaled as he leaned against the window. He had found some solitude in one of the towers of the castle, high up and hidden among one of the curling staircases. Up there, it was quiet and Tyki didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing him. He didn’t have to worry about anyone finding him, or speaking to him…  
  
He didn’t have to worry about seeing Alma.  
  
Selfish. He was being selfish. Tyki knew this, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from being so. But he was selfish, and holding that last memory he had of Alma too closely: that memory of Alma still peacefully sleeping in Tyki’s bed, his body curled up beside Tyki in blissful unawareness. Stubbornly, Tyki wanted to keep that last memory in the forefront of his mind. That one, final memory of Alma…  
  
He didn’t want to risk losing it. Not now.  
  
It was pathetic. Tyki wasn’t sure at what point he had even started to care, or grow so _attached_. It had been a stupid thing to do, after all; the point of having Alma brought to the Underworld had been only to give the Noah leverage when dealing with the Order. Alma had been nothing but a mere pawn, and a means to an end.   
  
At best, Alma could have been a plaything to Tyki. A toy, and a form of entertainment. That was how it had started, at least. Alma had been amusing to be around, with his presence having broken up the dull monotony of Tyki’s life in the Underworld. He had offered Tyki something different: a distraction.  
  
Somehow, that distraction had festered, and developed into something more.  
  
Tyki exhaled. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips, but naturally, it was doing him no favors.  
  
Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the ledge of the window. From his vantage point, Tyki could see down, where the garden remained below, and the hedge maze sprawled out. Quiet. Still-  
  
There was a flash of silvery light, causing Tyki to pause. As he looked down, he could see a shift below: a slight tear of light, as though the very fabric of reality were splitting apart. Slowly, and opening took form – one that resembled a door.  
  
From it, Tyki could see a figure step out. White hair. A discolored arm.  
  
In his chest, Tyki felt something clasp at his heart.  
  
Allen Walker had come, and he was going to take Alma back.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Allen Walker’s here.”  
  
Alma looked over, his gaze meeting Lala’s. He looked somewhat stunned, as though he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to respond. Alma could only swallow, as his next words came out rather dumbly. “He’s already here?”  
  
Lala nodded, as she remained in the doorway of Alma’s bedroom. “I came to take you down to him – he’s ready to take you back home now.”  
  
Alma took a breath, as he stood. He rubbed his wrist, the fluttering of the two teases flashing in the corner of his peripheral vision. Looking away from Lala, Alma spoke. “I still haven’t seen Tyki…the teases went to look for him, but he never came…”  
  
Lala’s expression softened, with a regretful gleam flickering in her one visible eye. “I’m really sorry,” she apologized. “I’m…not sure where Lord Tyki is, but we shouldn’t keep Allen waiting.”  
  
A wave of hesitation passed over Alma, as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. It had been several hours, and there had been so signs of Tyki – but Tyki would have learned by now that Alma was leaving, right? He would have heard the news from the other Noah, or at the very least _someone_.  
  
Before Alma could stop himself, he wondered if perhaps Tyki didn’t care to say goodbye after all.  
  
The thought was a blade into Alma’s gut, and he discarded the thought as quickly as it came, unable to handle the pain that accompanied it. “We can’t wait a bit longer?” Alma asked, words pitifully desperate. “I…I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”  
  
Lala paused. She appeared somewhat torn, divided on how to answer. When she did, she spoke carefully, a thoughtful look on her face. “I’m sure Allen would understand that you want to say goodbye,” Lala commented. “Maybe we could wait downstairs? Then that way Allen will at least know not to worry, or else he might think that something has happened.”  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. Lala’s reasoning made sense and was definitely reasonable. However, Alma still felt uncertain – what if Tyki finally came to Alma’s room, but Alma was gone?  
  
At the same time, Alma thought of Allen. As Lala said, it would have been better to at least go downstairs, or else Allen might begin to suspect that something was amiss.  
  
Shoulders slumping, Alma nodded. “Okay…”  
  
Lala waited, as Alma stood up. Without saying anything more, he walked over to where Lala was as they exited into the hallway together, the two teases flying behind in tow.  
  
The walk took place in silence. Lala didn’t say anything, nor did Alma; he was too distracted as he looked around the corridor, the walls high as the shadows stretched up into pools of darkness. The torches lined the walls as usual, their flames dancing silently as they glowed, gleaming like brilliant amber. Faintly, Alma recalled when he had first seen the torches – when he had first run through these dark corridors, alone and afraid…  
  
It felt as though it had been an eternity ago.  
  
_‘I’ll never see any of it again…’_ Alma realized, as they exited the corridor and began to descend the staircase leading into the entrance hall. The dark halls, the twisting shadows – Alma would never have to wander them again. He would never have to be trapped there, confined to the Underworld and encompassed by darkness.  
  
It would all be over, and Alma would never have to think about it ever again.  
  
Coming to the main doors, Lala pushed one open. A gust of cold air brushed against Alma’s skin, causing a shiver to ripple throughout his body. Rubbing his hands over his arms, he hesitated, his body stopping at the edge of the door. Warily, Alma felt his eyes move down to his ankle, where the golden band remained.  
  
Lala paused, as she looked back at Alma. Seeing where his attention landed, she spoke. “The band will dissolve once you step outside – you don’t need to worry about it anymore.”  
  
Alma blinked. He still was somewhat cautious, the humiliation of having been jerked back before still fresh in his mind. However, Alma knew that the situation was different – that this_ time_, it was different.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma stepped forward, the band dissolving to dust as it fell off of his ankle.  
  
It was at this point that Alma actually looked up, his gaze turning forward. As he did, his attention immediately landed on a familiar face.  
  
“Allen!” Alma exclaimed, as he rushed over to where Allen was.  
  
Allen looked over. He had been waiting beside the stone fountain out front, seated on the edge of it and waiting patiently. He stood, silvery-gray eyes lighting up, as a relieved smile appeared on his face.   
  
“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Allen said, as he came face to face with Alma. “I was starting to get worried – I came last night, but the Noah wouldn’t let me take you back until today. I was beginning to worry they were going to try something again.”  
  
Alma shook his head. “No, they didn’t,” he said. “Have you spoken to my family?”  
  
“Just your brother, but we should leave,” Allen urged. “They’re going to be expecting you.”  
  
As soon as the words were spoken, Alma faltered. “Can we wait a bit longer?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.   
  
Allen blinked, completely perplexed. He glanced back behind Alma, where he could see Lala and the two teases remaining close to the door.   
  
Refocusing on Alma, Allen spoke. “Alma…we really need to go. We shouldn’t stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.”  
  
Heart lurching, Alma spoke up quickly. “Please, just a few more minutes?” Alma begged. “I…I just need to say goodbye to Tyki – I haven’t seen him yet today, and I really need to!”  
  
Allen was completely taken aback – so much that he didn’t even know how to respond. Brows knitting a bit, Allen tried to make sense of the request, his words wary as he spoke. “Alma…we can wait a few minutes. But I really do need to take you back.”  
  
Alma nodded. “I…I understand,” he said, words somewhat shaky. “But…please, just a little bit? He’ll come – I know he will!”  
  
Allen exhaled. There was a desperately pleading look in Alma’s eyes, which made it difficult to refuse his request. It was almost painful to witness; there was such a conviction in Alma’s words, and such _faith_…  
  
Allen didn’t want Alma to be disappointed.  
  
They waited out there by the fountain a short bit longer, the seconds ticking by slowly for Alma. Anxiously, he found himself continuing to glance back toward the castle, waiting for any sign of Tyki. Any glimpse. Any glance. Alma was just _waiting_.  
  
The fear remained: what if Tyki wasn’t coming?  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma told himself, the thought shattering enough to bring him to tears. _‘No…no, he’ll come…’_  
  
More time passed. Eventually, Allen sighed. He took a step near Alma, as he looked toward him sympathetically.   
  
“Alma…I don’t think Tyki’s coming,” Allen finally said, words soft. “I’m really sorry. But it’s time to go.”  
  
Alma looked up at Allen, eyes glassy. “But…” he tried to say, before he could feel himself trailing off. _‘Tyki…’_  
  
Allen glanced back toward the door, where he could see that Lala had remained with the teases. Looking over at Alma, Allen nudged his head toward the door. “Do you want to say goodbye to them?”  
  
Alma blinked, before he nodded his head slowly. “Yeah…” he said, as he rubbed his arm. “I’ll…I’ll be right back. We can leave after…”  
  
Allen nodded, and Alma turned to go back toward the entrance of the castle.   
  
Lala looked up as Alma approached, her gaze apologetic as she saw the hurt in his eyes. “I’m really sorry,” Lala offered. “I’m not sure where Lord Tyki went…”  
  
Alma shook his head. His eyes were still glassy, but he was fighting back the pain as he tried to focus on Lala. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “But…thanks. For helping me while I was here.”  
  
Lala smiled at Alma. “I’ll miss having you around.”  
  
Alma managed a tiny smile back. He then looked up at the teases, and tapped at one of them, its body turning into a wisp of smoke before reforming itself.   
  
“Bye,” Alma said, words gentle.  
  
The teases hovered, before they returned inside. Lala took a step back toward the door, pausing as she turned to Alma to give him a small, final wave.  
  
Alma watched, as Lala then shut the door behind her.  
  
He stood there, unmoving as the silence encompassed him. Alma couldn’t do much else at first; there had been such a finality to that door shutting, to Lala leaving Alma out there with Allen. To go back. To go home.  
  
This was it. It was over.  
  
Heavily, the reality shrouded Alma as a shaky breath spilled from his lungs. Stubbornly, he could feel his eyes burn a bit – something that should have been ridiculous. After all, why should Alma have been crying? He was finally leaving. He was finally going _home_.  
  
_‘Just go,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘Just go…there’s no reason for you to stay here.’_  
  
Alma turned around. He saw that Allen was still by the fountain, waiting for Alma to return.  
  
As Alma approached Allen, Allen spoke. “Ready?”  
  
Mutely, Alma nodded his head, throat dry and stomach knotted.  
  
Stepping beside Alma, Allen took his left hand, skin charred and distorted as he ran his hand through the air. As Allen did this, a vertical split cracked through the air, silvery and luminous before it began to spread wider.  
  
Turning to Alma, Allen spoke. “It’s a portal - a form of what’s called an ark door,” he explained. “We just have to cross through it, and it’ll bring us to the crevice that leads up into the upper realm – this way we don’t have to navigate through the whole Underworld.”  
  
Swallowing, Alma nodded. He watched as the door continued to widen, until there was enough space that he and Allen could both go through.  
  
From behind, Alma thought he could hear the heavy creak of a door open. Confused, he turned back, at first wondering if it was Lala-  
  
Alma stilled.  
  
Tyki was there. He had just opened the door, and was now standing in the doorway, his golden eyes piercing as they rested on Alma, their gazes locking instantly.   
  
Alma didn’t even think. Without so much as uttering an explanation to Allen, he turned, running to where Tyki was.   
  
“Tyki!” Alma called, as he ran up to the doors, immediately throwing his arms around Tyki. Stupidly, Alma realized his eyes were watering, as he clung to Tyki desperately.  
  
A stunned look crossed Tyki’s features, as Alma clung to him. However, Tyki soon tried to wipe it away, as he wrapped an arm around Alma. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so late,” he apologized.  
  
Alma shook his head, tears collecting in his eyes.   
  
Tyki held Alma a second longer, his hand stroking Alma’s back. His golden eyes flickering up, he could see Allen staring at them, waiting by the ark door as he continued to hold it open.  
  
Looking back at Alma, Tyki spoke. “You better get going…looks like Walker already has a door open.”  
  
Alma took a step back. He blinked, eyes bleary as he kept his hands on Tyki’s shoulders. “I’m…I’m not going to be able to see you again…”  
  
Tyki smiled. “That’s not the worst thing,” he said, tone simultaneously light and heavy.   
  
Alma slipped his hands off Tyki’s shoulders, eyes still watery but the tears having yet to fall. Quickly, Alma took his hands as he cupped them together, a small, warm glow forming.   
  
When Alma opened his hands, there was a flower inside: a beautiful, dark purple orchid.  
  
Carefully, Alma slipped the flower into Tyki’s hand, closing Tyki’s fingers into a fist. His touch rested there, light and soft against Tyki’s grasp, the warmth of the blossom pulsating softly.  
  
Tyki looked up from their hands, his gaze meeting Alma’s instantly.   
  
Taking his other hand, Tyki layered it over Alma’s, as he squeezed gently. “Go,” he whispered.  
  
Alma blinked, his eyes still bright despite the pain that shone within them. He remained quiet, though in his face, something lingered – something unsaid, as though a confession were upon the tip of his tongue.  
  
But, Alma didn’t say anything as he released his grip on Tyki’s hand, and turned to go back to Allen.  
  
Tyki didn’t stop him. He watched as Alma returned to where Allen was, the ark door still open as it glowed a bright, luminous white.   
  
Before entering, Alma glanced back, his gaze meeting Tyki’s a final time. However, Allen placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder, causing him to look away once more, as they both crossed through the ark door.  
  
Almost immediately, the ark door closed, with not a trace of light remaining in the Underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another loaded chapter! ;__;
> 
> Really, these last few chapters are pretty packed - especially since a lot of things are coming to light. Some of Tyki’s background was one thing that I hadn’t yet delved into, but it worked to have it happen here. There’s a lot of vulnerability in that first scene with Tyki and Alma (which, tbh was kicked off with that sex scene last chapter and also the fact that this is the first time they’re in Tyki’s bedroom together djksaljda). So it’s like...a really big deal for Tyki to be letting Alma in on what happened with that boy? 
> 
> Which, I think people can put together the boy was Eeez. I always had planned for him to play a role, and Tyki in this fic is similar to Tyki in canon: he’s very attached to that human part of himself, which, at the time caused him to act out in a way that pissed off the Order. >.<
> 
> Of course, when Tyki finally just give some of that vulnerability, Alma gets the news that he’s going home - which, it was a bit complicated to write that. Alma definitely wants to see his family, but there’s a lot of confusion he’s feeling. In a way, he’s already gotten used to be in the Underworld (it only takes 21 days to get into a routine XD), and he’s also grappling with his feelings for Tyki.
> 
> This becomes more apparent when Road comes in...annnnnd drops in a pomegranate. (I mean, for a Hades and Persephone AU there _has_ to be a pomegranate, you know? XD) I actually had a few versions drafted of how this element was going to be incorporated...but I’ll wait to go into that later. >.>
> 
> Also - there’s some art on my Tumblr that was gifted to me in a Secret Santa, done by Crouleek. If you look under the tag “Dark Flower”, you can find a STUNNING image of Alma and Tyki a la Hades and Persephone. It’s a really amazing piece, and reminded me very much of this parting scene when I received it. ;__; (Go check it out! XD)
> 
> There’s four chapters left after this (the fourth technically being the epilogue), so we’re coming to a head! A lot can happen in a few chapters, so prepare yourselves. ;3
> 
> Comments and feedback appreciated as always! <3


	27. A Taste of Something Bitter

The ark door was strange to be in. It was like a hall of silver light, constantly moving about, shifting like an array of a pale borealis. It was almost mesmerizing to behold – so much, that Alma came close to forgetting what he had all been through.  
  
Almost.  
  
“Step out now,” Allen instructed, as a vertical opening formed before them: white, bright, and impossible to see through.  
  
Alma nodded, as he did so. Taking a breath, Alma stepped forward through the opening.  
  
Alma blinked. When he looked around, he saw that he was now in what appeared to be some sort of underground tunnel: a cavern that stretched on, the ground beaten to dusk as the air remained murky and cold.  
  
Allen followed. He walked on. “This way – the crevice that enters into the mortal realm is just up ahead.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he wrapped his arms around himself.  
  
The tunnel continued on. They walked for at least a half hour, before Alma noticed a slight change in the ground. Gradually, it began to rise in elevation, slowly becoming steeper as they trekked on.  
  
A few more minutes passed, and a wall came into sight. Worriedly, Alma wondered if they had somehow come to a dead end.  
  
Allen walked on, stopped just before the wall. As he did, Alma had a chance to look more closely. To his surprise, there were runes scrawled in a circular pattern on the wall – ones that he had not been able to see from afar.  
  
Gently, Allen tapped several of the runes. They each illuminated before the sound of earth shifting could be heard, with the wall splitting apart to reveal a set of stairs.  
  
Allen looked back at Alma, a small smile on his face. “Follow me.”  
  
Alma nodded. He watched as Allen started up the stairs, and carefully followed from behind. Alma glanced down, trying to make sure he could see where he was going – however, as they ascended, Alma could see something bright-  
  
There was a flash of light, and Alma winced as soon as he reached the top of the stairs. Instinctively, he shielded his eyes with his hands, as a painful _brightness_ poured over him. Alma tried to lower his hands as he blinked his eyes opened, but again had to shield them, the light of wherever they had ended up too much for him to bear.  
  
Allen turned to Alma, as they stepped out from what appeared to be a crevice in the ground. He quickly took note of Alma’s discomfort, and placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder to steady him.  
  
“Just take a few moments,” Allen spoke, words soft. “You were in the Underworld for almost over a month and a half…you haven’t seen the sun since.”  
  
Alma blinked again, his eyes still shielded as he tried to keep them open. Alma had to squint though, as his vision blurred into focus. It was slow, the adjustment uncomfortable; Alma’s eyes naturally wanted to water due to the sting of the vibrancy around him, but he tried to push through as he kept his hand above his brow.  
  
Gradually, their surroundings came more into view, though the smell was what hit Alma first. Fresh air, sweet blossoms – in the distance, he could hear birds chirping as well. There was the sound of leaves rustling, as a fresh breeze brushed against Alma’s skin, and finally, the clarity of his vision returned.   
  
Trees. Tall trees all around him, and wildflowers sprinkling the ground. It was so familiar, and yet strange; the leaves on the branches of the trees were not quite as green, with some of the edges even beginning to fade into an oddly discolored brown. The grass was not quite as soft, and some of the wildflowers appeared small and sparse.  
  
The details were small and caused Alma to at first be confused. However, he looked up, as the familiarity of the location continued to sink in-  
  
He stilled. Up ahead of them and through the trees, Alma could see the clearing where his family’s estate was.  
  
Allen removed his hand from Alma’s shoulder, as he looked over at Alma. “Let’s get you home – your family will be anxious to see you.”  
  
Alma didn’t move at first. He was still somewhat stunned, as he stared at the estate quietly. In a sense, he almost felt as though he had entered into a dream: it felt like an eternity since Alma had been home, and yet he recalled being there with such _clarity_. The sensation was disorienting, and Alma had no idea what to make of it.  
  
Eventually, Alma was aware of Allen’s eyes on him, and he swiftly tried to snap back to reality. Somewhat dumbly, Alma nodded his head. “O...okay,” he said, words quiet.  
  
They began walking after that, with the sound of the crevice in the earth closing behind them as they headed toward the estate. In doing this, Alma felt himself grown oddly nervous; he hadn’t seen his family so long, and he had no idea how they’d react to seeing him after all that had happened.   
  
_‘A month and a half…’_ Alma thought, his heart rattling in his chest like a caged bird.  
  
Just as Alma and Allen approached the front of the house, the door opened. Two nymphs came outside, carrying empty washbasins and likely on their way to collect fresh water. They stopped immediately though, their brightly colored eyes landing on Alma and Allen before they widened to the size of saucers, a look of shock on their faces.   
  
In a rapid motion, both nymphs quickly ran back inside, leaving the door opened as they disappeared. “Alma’s back!”  
  
Their voices were somewhat muffled from being inside, but Alma heard them clearly enough. Again, he felt his insides twist up, stomach knotting itself repeatedly to the point of making him nauseous.  
  
Alma didn’t get much longer to focus on his nerves, before he soon saw someone else hurry out onto the veranda: his mother.  
  
She looked worn – that was the first thing that Alma noticed. She looked worn and frayed, with tired eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and restless thoughts. Her hair, while still pulled back, did not quite appear as well-kept, and her clothing not as pristine. In fact, Twi looked _depleted_ – almost as though she had begun to neglect her own health.  
  
There was only a fraction of a second before Twi’s eyes met Alma’s, and suddenly, Twi looked stunned. She looked dazed and stunned, almost as though she were uncertain as though she were uncertain of how to react.  
  
Edgar suddenly rushed up behind Twi, frazzled as he looked about. His attention also landed on Alma immediately, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. “Alma?”  
  
Something in Alma snapped, as though he were suddenly struck by electricity. It was as though hearing his father’s voice had somehow awoken him from a haze, luring him out of a dark fog and into reality. The sensation was so abrupt and _jarring_ – Alma suddenly didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t know how he felt, or why his eyes were burning-  
  
Before Alma could blink, his parents were suddenly before him, having hurried up to flock around him. Alma couldn’t even react before he felt his parents pull him close, their motions protective as they fretted over Alma immediately.   
  
Twi had been the first to pull Alma to her, holding him so tightly that Alma suddenly felt as though he were once more a small child. “I can’t believe you’re back,” she spoke, completely breathless as her relief poured into her words.   
  
Quickly, Twi pulled back, as she ran her hands along Alma’s face, eyes scanning his appearance as though to check for any harm. As she did this, her eyes looked strangely watery, her usually cool blue eyes blurred with tears. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”  
  
Alma blinked, still stunned by the reunion. He opened his mouth somewhat dumbly as he tried to manage a response, but his words were weak, as he could feel tears welling in his eyes. “I…no, I’m okay-“  
  
“We should go back inside,” Edgar suggested. “A lot’s happened.”  
  
Twi nodded in agreement, as she quickly ushered Alma into the house. “Here – let’s get you out of those clothing and cleaned up,” Twi insisted, as she hurried Alma along before he had a chance to even say anything.  
  
As Twi took Alma inside, Edgar remained, as he returned his attention to Allen. He exhaled heavily. “Thank you for bringing him back,” Edgar spoke. “I…can’t even begin to tell you how worried we’ve been.”  
  
Allen nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. “I can imagine,” he said softly. His attention then flickered to the house, before he looked back at Edgar. “Alma…may need some time though. I’m not sure what all happened while he was in the Underworld, but I think he might be in a bit of a shock right now.”  
  
“Of course,” Edgar said, as he nodded his head. “We’ll get him settled.”  
  
Allen’s expression remained pensive, his lips pressing into a thin line. As he spoke, his words were low. “The Order did indicate they’ll be reaching out soon…they’re expecting that once Alma has a few days to settle in, you’ll be bringing him to the Acropolis.”  
  
Hearing this, Edgar went quiet, his expression turning somber.   
  
“I know. We’ll…we’ll make sure everything is taken care of before then,” Edgar said, words somewhat terse. “Thank you again.”  
  
Allen nodded, as he watched Edgar turn to go back into the house. As the front door shut, he turned to take his leave.  
  
Whatever happened next was out of his hands.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Here,” Twi said, as she urged Alma to sit down. They had come into the sitting room, which consisted of several divans, chairs, and a sofa. The windows were large, as the vibrancy of the sun spilled through the sheer, iridescent curtains, and brightened the terracotta walls.  
  
Alma did as told, his attention wandering around the room. It was the very room he remembered being in as a child, fidgeting as his parents would often speak after dinner; often, Alma had found entertainment in anything from playing with the curtains to finding strange shapes in the carpets. Such moments now seemed like an eternity ago, causing the room to feel strange to Alma. It felt strange, and…_distant_.  
  
Twi eyed Alma, as she took note of his quiet demeanor. Her lips pursed; a worried glimmer appeared in her eyes, her brow pinching together as she watched her son. “Alma-”  
  
Twi didn’t get a chance to finish, as Edgar entered into the sitting room. Glancing between Twi and Alma, he walked over, a warm smile on his face. “I’m going to let your brother and grandfather know you’re back,” Edgar said to Alma. “They’ll be so happy to see you – we’ve all missed you so much.”  
  
Alma looked up at Edgar. He felt as though he should say something – _anything_. His father was speaking so gently to him, and Alma saw the warmth pouring from his eyes. But, Alma just couldn’t _speak_; it was as though his voice was suddenly locked away into his chest, carefully concealing itself as he was left to flounder. Alma didn’t understand it, and he didn’t know what was _wrong_. He had missed his parents so much, and he had wanted to come home so _terribly_…  
  
Alma didn’t know why, but he felt numb. Silently, he wondered if something was wrong with him.  
  
Twi was still eying Alma, the concern never having left her face. She had taken a seat in the chair across from Alma, eyes pensive as she watched Alma remain soundless and still, like some creature left in a state of shock.   
  
Hands wringing into the skirt of her peplum, Twi finally spoke. “Alma,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Alma, did they do anything to you down there?”  
  
Alma looked at Twi, expression somewhat startled. He opened his mouth, though no noise came out, which only seemed to worry Twi even more.  
  
“Alma, if they did something, you need to _tell us_,” Twi began to urge.  
  
“Twi,” Edgar said, as he tried to ease his wife. “Twi, let’s not press right now-“  
  
“Edgar, the Noah _abducted him_ – it’s been over six weeks, and anything could have happened!” Twi argued, her eyes flashing heatedly.  
  
Alma stared, again left speechless. His attention flashed between his parents uneasily, the discomfort in the air palpable. Quickly, Alma found himself attempting to muster up whatever power he could to speak.   
  
“They…they didn’t…” Alma began to say, the words sounding pathetically weak as he tried to force them out. “I’m _okay-_“  
  
“Alma, _please _don’t lie for them,” Twi implored. “Whatever they did, we won’t let them get away with it. They can’t hurt you anymore.”  
  
“But I’m _fine_,” Alma tried to explain, words growing a bit stronger. “They…”  
  
Alma trailed off. Although he had barely spoken since returning home, the few words he had managed had placed a strain on him, leaving Alma stressed and depleted. Shakily, he took a breath, his emotions somehow breaking free of their prior numbness as they began to spiral.  
  
“I…can I please go to my room?” Alma finally asked, as he looked away. “I…I’m just really tired, and I think I need to be alone right now.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything at first, the intensity in her eyes having faltered at Alma’s request. Edgar stepped in swiftly though, as he immediately addressed Alma.  
  
“Of course,” Edgar said, again keeping his tone gentle. “Just go up, and take all the time you need, okay? If you need anything, just let us know.”  
  
Alma nodded, before he glanced toward his mother uneasily. Then, before anything else could be said, Alma stood, as he hastily made his way out of the sitting room, the door shutting behind him.  
  
Edgar exhaled. He turned to Twi, a somewhat exasperated look on his face. “Twi, you can’t just ramrod him like that,” Edgar admonished. “I know it’s scary to think about what possibly happened down there, but we have to give him _time_.”  
  
Twi looked back at Edgar, eyes sharp. “I don’t want him thinking he _can’t _tell us what they did,” she snapped, words turning more fervent by the second. “With how long they kept him down there, _anything_ could have happened-“  
  
“That’s true, but he _just got here_,” Edgar argued. “You _saw_ him Twi – Alma looks like he’s in shock, and we have to give him space right now.”  
  
Twi stood up, gaze averted as she turned away. There was an uneasy, almost pained look on her face, her jaw tight and her shoulders tense.   
  
“What did Allen Walker say to you after I brought Alma inside?” Twi asked, words low.  
  
Edgar remained quiet. His eyes turned stony, as an oddly severe look soiled his features. It was almost striking to witness, when Edgar was normally so soft and gentle. However, those qualities diminished in that moment, as he forced himself to respond.  
  
“He informed me that the Order will be reaching out to us soon,” Edgar answered, somewhat stiffly. “They’re…expecting us to make sure Alma is brought to the Acropolis after he has a few days to adjust to being back.”  
  
Twi turned back to Edgar sharply. The fire that had been brimming in her eyes only seconds before was now fractured, and for a split second, a look of complete _devastation_ flashed across her face, like a glacier cracking apart into a million pieces.  
  
Edgar watched, as Twi once more broke eye contact, the agony in her expression all too apparent. It was heartbreaking to watch, but nowhere near as heartbreaking as the words that Edgar had to force himself to speak next.  
  
“Twi…we’re going to have to tell him,” Edgar said. “We…we can’t hide it from him anymore. He has to know.”  
  
Twi’s hands clasped together, so tightly that her knuckles were white. The words poured into her ears like acidic saltwater, abrasive and scalding despite the softness in which Edgar had spoken. She just couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t bear to think of telling Alma the horrible truth, to watch his face crumble once he realized what it was that his parents had kept from him for so long. She couldn’t _bear it_…  
  
Twi exhaled, somewhat heavily. “Space,” she repeated. “You said…we need to give him space. So, let’s give him a few days. Just…a few more days…”  
  
Edgar watched Twi, as he didn’t say anything immediately. His expression was still solemn, and weary; dark circles could be seen under his eyes, and his lips were pressed into a thin frown.  
  
“Alright,” Edgar agreed. “A few days…we’ll wait a few more days.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was quick to hurry back to his room. He hadn’t even bothered to speak to any of the nymphs or ask about where Fou might have been. Alma just needed to leave, and to hide somewhere before anyone could think to catch him. To question him. To ask about what had _happened_…  
  
Alma didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about it to any of them.  
  
He found the door to his room quickly, rushing inside and shutting the door behind him. A strange, eerie familiarity tickled his spine, his back pressed against the door as his sky-blue gaze scanned his bedroom. The bed was made and pristine, with no one having slept in it for weeks, and all of Alma books were lined on the shelves, some held upright by knick-knacks and trinkets, and others having been left on their sides.  
  
Alma exhaled. His room. All of this time, and he was finally in his old room again.  
  
Soundlessly, Alma walked over to the windows. They were shut, and the air was a bit stuffy. Unlocking the glass panels, Alma pushed them open, his attention flickering to the flowerbed beneath the window. Blinking, Alma could see that the flowers had dried, the breath of life having melted away from their petals.  
  
Carefully, Alma waved his hands over the flowers. They brightened instantly, the petals brimming with life as they revived upon Alma’s touch.  
  
Somehow, the sight managed to bring a smile to Alma’s lips – the first smile he had been able to make ever since returning home. He allowed his fingertips to linger against the flowers, as the hum of life pulsated through their stems. A few small crocuses reached up, their petals yearning to be close to Alma as though he were an oasis of light, their blossoms opening wider in their need.  
  
“I missed you too,” Alma said, words gentle as a small smile lingered on his lips.  
  
The flowers relaxed, and Alma drew back his hand. The small exchange had calmed him, easing the anxiety and tension in his body. Sitting down on the divan by the window, Alma glanced around the room once more. It was so strangely familiar, yet looked so still – it felt as though no time had passed since Alma had been in there. Yet there was dust on some of the books, and the air had been stagnant…  
  
Home. He was really home. All of that time, and he was _home_.  
  
Alma exhaled. He still felt somewhat disoriented, but could feel his clarity return to him gradually. The memory of being reunited with his parents was so fresh in his mind, and as Alma reflected…  
  
He realized that he must have seemed terribly indifferent to them.  
  
_‘I made them worry so much…’_ Alma thought, as guilt wracked his body. _‘Mother and Father…’_  
  
His penitence festered, as Alma thought about how his parents had looked when he saw them. They had both been so worn and weary – when had Alma ever seen his parents in such a state? The thought alone was enough to bring tears to Alma’s eyes. He had missed them – he truly had. Even if he hadn’t been able to process it in the moment, he had missed being home, and he had missed his mother and father. He had missed it all, just as he now missed-  
  
A pair of molten colored irises flashed in Alma’s memory. His heart jerked as though a hand had attempted to yank it from his very chest.  
  
_‘Don’t,’_ Alma silently pleaded. _‘Don’t…don’t think about him anymore. You’re never going to see him again. You’re home now, and you’re never going to…’_  
  
Alma couldn’t even finish his own thoughts as his eyes burned, vision blurring. Unable to stop himself, Alma felt his composure break, hidden away in the privacy of his own room as he began to fall apart entirely.  
  
Despite the fact that he was home, Alma felt hollow.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The next few days were more of an adjustment than they should have been.  
  
Alma felt so, at least. His first day had been something of a blur, with him having spent most of the day in his room. He had of course come down for dinner, which had been quiet and a little awkward. Alma’s parents periodically exchanged glances, occasionally making an effort for small talk. But otherwise, the conversations never went any further, with the results nothing more than surface level small talk.  
  
It felt as though every conversation was somewhat strained now. Alma tried to be talkative, like how he had been before; he really, truly tried. But everyone spoke to him so gently, with shifting gazes and cautious words. His parents, the nymphs – even Fou seemed more reserved, with her abrasive nature having diminished since Alma’s return.  
  
In a way, it felt as though everyone thought that one wrong word would shatter Alma to bits.  
  
Alma exhaled, as he walked through the forest. He had come outside to attend to the plants and blossoms, as he had started to do again after his first day back home. Alma had noticed that the trees were not as lush, leaves sparse and branches brittle, and the flowers were somewhat wilted. It was an unusual sight; for all of Alma’s life, the plant life around his family’s home had never once faltered.  
  
Fortunately, things had started to recover once Alma returned. It was not as though everything was immediately repaired, but the nature around him was well on its way to reviving. Alma imagined his mother must have been working to help things in her own way, though he still did not understand why everything had begun to wilt in the first place.  
  
Stopping beside a tree, Alma glanced at it. The leaves were starting to regrow, the foliage returning to a deep, emerald green. Placing his hand on the tree bark, Alma checked for the gentle, rhythmic throb of energy pulsating within it. It was still a bit faint, though it was better than when Alma had first checked on it a few days ago.  
  
Alma closed his eyes, as he leaned forward to rest his head against the tree. There was a small glow of light that appeared wherever Alma touched the bark, before it dissolved into the tree.   
  
Blinking his eyes open, Alma took a step back. When he looked at the tree, he saw the foliage was a bit fuller, with more life having been breathed back into it.  
  
Not too far from behind Alma, Fou looked over. She had come with Alma to accompany him into the forest – something that Twi and Edgar had asked her to do anytime Alma had wandered out since returning.   
  
“Everything’s been looking better ever since you came back,” Fou commented, as she walked over to where Alma was.  
  
Alma blinked, his attention still on the tree as a small frown tugging at his lips. “Why…why did Mother and Father allow everything to start wilting?” Alma asked. “Even some of the leaves were beginning to brown…”  
  
Fou’s eyes were pensive, her lips also pressed into a small line. Placing her hands on her hips, she walked more closely to eye the tree. “Well, your parents were…pretty distraught when the Noah took you,” Fou said, her pink eyes shifting to Alma. “They just…didn’t put the energy into taking care of it. And the lands the humans live on didn’t fare any better…”  
  
Alma sighed. “I wish they wouldn’t have done that…” he said, as he rubbed his arms. “It’s not fair to the trees and the flowers, or the mortals…”  
  
Fou lowered her arms. Although her frown remained, her eyes were sympathetic, her features appearing softer than normal. “You know…it wasn’t easy for them when they found out that you had been taken by the Noah,” Fou explained, words careful. “Honestly, I’ve never seen your mom so upset…she completely fell apart.”  
  
Alma looked back at Fou. There was a somewhat guilty look in his eyes, before he looked down awkwardly. “I’m…I’m sorry. I know it probably was hard, but I just…”  
  
Alma trailed off, not even sure what it was he was trying to say. After all, how else could he have expected his parents to have reacted to him being dragged down into the Underworld? Alma himself had been devastated, but….  
  
Alma released a small breath. “I just…wish I could have communicated with them somehow. I…I was _fine_…”  
  
Fou watched Alma. Her gaze were astute, observing every shift in his body language carefully. She noticed how he looked away, saw how he turned – there was a painfully avoidant way to how Alma was carrying himself, whether he realized it or not, and even Fou couldn’t deny it was sad to see.  
  
“No one knew if you were fine,” Fou finally said, words quiet.  
  
There was a pause, as Alma said nothing to this, his hand gripping his wrist tightly.  
  
Fou sighed, as she glanced at the sky. In the west, she could see that the sun was beginning to lower.  
  
“It’s almost going to be sundown,” Fou said. “We should get you back to the house – it’ll be dinner soon, and you know your parents won’t want you outside once its dark.”  
  
Shoulders slumping a bit, Alma nodded. Ever since returning, Alma’s parents had been insistent on making sure that Alma was inside by dusk – something that he couldn’t say he was surprised by.  
  
“Okay,” Alma said.   
  
They walked back through the forest, the conversation dying swiftly. Alma didn’t bother to attempt with any small talk, his eyes distant and his thoughts in a haze. He was aware of his surroundings – of the trees, the flowers, and the birds chirping about. He was aware of that, and of Fou’s presence. However, there was a small, periodic _nudge_ in the back of his mind, and following that Alma could feel his thoughts slipping away…  
  
_Warm skin. Hands clasping at the small of his back….  
  
It hurt. It hurt so much to look into his eyes, those golden eyes that Alma would _never_ see again…  
  
An orchid. It was such a small, measly gift. But Alma didn’t know what else to give; he didn’t know what else he could give, and he needed to leave _something…  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Alma looked up, somewhat startled. He had stopped walking, though Alma hadn’t realized it until just then, where he finally registered just where he had stopped.  
  
Orchids. He had stopped, just before some wild orchids.  
  
Fou eyed Alma somewhat curiously, an almost cautionary look in her eyes. “Um…Alma?” she asked, when still having had yet to receive any sort of verbal response from him.  
  
Alma snapped out of it, as he tore his gaze from the orchids. “Um…sorry,” he apologized, somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, I got distracted…”  
  
Fou didn’t say anything, though her expression was still somewhat concerned. She continued to move on though, as Alma once more began walking as well.  
  
Once they reached the house, only Alma went inside, bidding Fou a good evening. Fou waited, her attention lingering on Alma until he walked inside, with one of the double doors closing behind him.  
  
Alma exhaled, as soon as the door shut. He had felt Fou’s gaze on him as he walked in, and glanced back at the door.  
  
_‘It’s already been a few days, but no one wants to leave me alone for too long…’_ Alma thought, as he turned away from the door. He supposed that he shouldn’t have expected anything less; naturally, everyone hovered around, him, always keeping watch. This was true even when Alma went inside; it just was no longer acceptable for him to wander around without an escort, whether it was Fou or a nymph, or even one of his parents. Alma just…couldn’t be left alone. Not unless he was only in his room.  
  
He couldn’t be trusted to be left alone after what had happened.  
  
_‘I doubt Mother and Father will ever let me go off on my own now…’_ Alma thought, as he started down the hallway. Of course, Alma knew he couldn’t entirely blame his parents – it only made sense they would worry. Even if it meant cutting every shred of independence that Alma had.  
  
Alma simply would have to deal with it.  
  
“…They sent this today…”  
  
Alma stopped, as soon as soon as he heard someone speak. It was a bit muffled, but the voice sounded familiar – his father?  
  
Alma remained still. He glanced around, listening in case he heard something else-  
  
“…We have to say something…”  
  
Alma turned, as he detected where the voice was coming from. Just a few doors down, there was a study – one that sometimes his parents went to for writing letters and correspondences.   
  
Quietly, Alma crept over to the door. It was shut, so he was especially careful to be as soundless as possible, placing his ear close to the door as he tried to make out what his father was saying.  
  
“…Twi, we _have_ to…”  
  
“…It’s only been a few days – it’s too soon-“  
  
“Twi, we don’t have _time._ The Order was clear in their message that they want him at the Acropolis immediately-“  
  
Alma frowned, as he tried to listen more. Who were his parents talking about? It certainly couldn’t have been Alma, could it? No, Alma couldn’t think of why the Order would want him at the Acropolis, and Alma didn’t think his parents would allow such a thing. But, who would they have been talking about?  
  
“This isn’t how we planned to tell him. Alma just came _back_-“  
  
Eyes widening, Alma’s body tensed. _‘They…they’re talking about me…?’_  
  
“It’s not what we planned, but we don’t have any options left,” Edgar could be heard continuing. “We have to tell him, and we have to tell him _tonight_.”  
  
There was a shift of movement inside, and in a panic, Alma realized that his parents were coming to the door. Alma looked around, before darting into the sitting room across the hall. He hid just so that he was out of sight, his back pressed against the wall beside the door, heart pounding in his chest.  
  
The study door opened, and Alma heard his parents enter into the hallway. As they did so, Alma barely caught the rest of their conversation, their voices lowered to whispers, hushed and close to inaudible.  
  
“He’ll never forgive us,” Twi spoke, words so low that Alma almost missed them.  
  
“We can’t worry about that now,” Edgar whispered back. “Let’s go – it’s almost dinner, and Alma will be back soon.”  
  
Alma listened, as he heard his parents walk away. However, he was still frozen, completely motionless as he remained pressed against the wall, thoughts spinning into a frenzy.   
  
What had his parents been talking about? What was it that they needed to tell him? Did the Order want something with Alma after all? Again, Alma wasn’t sure why – he wasn’t sure if it was because of his time in the Underworld, or if it were something else. But if it were something else, what could it have been? Surely it wouldn’t have been anything his parents would have concealed from him for long, right?  
  
_“He’ll never forgive us.”_  
  
His mother’s words echoing in his head, Alma fought a shudder.  
  
Whatever it was that his parents intended to tell him, Alma had a feeling that it wouldn’t be pleasant to hear.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Dinner was quiet. It wasn’t anything that was outright unusual, as it had been this way ever since Alma had returned home. Before, Alma would have often talked, chattering away to his parents amiably about the flowers he tended to, or whatever conversations he and Fou had. He would do that, and he would ask his parents about their day, seeking out any hint of excitement that he could find.  
  
However, the last few days such conversations had been nonexistent. Alma hadn’t meant for this; his thoughts were constantly in a fog, and his mind repeatedly wandered off elsewhere, making him easily distracted and distant. It wasn’t something that went unnoticed by his parents, either; they occasionally exchanged glances before one of them would speak, probing Alma with gentle questions in hopes of seeing his normal temperament return.  
  
Because of this, Alma tried to make an effort to improve. He truly did. But, such was currently proving more difficult for Alma than normal.  
  
Quietly, Alma pushed around his food. He didn’t have much of an appetite, as appealing as dinner was; the roasted vegetables and seared chicken was hardly enough of a distraction for Alma’s thoughts, which repeatedly returned to the conversation he had overheard earlier.  
  
_“The Order was clear in their message that they want him at the Acropolis immediately-”_  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. Why would the Order want him at the Acropolis? Yes, he had longed to go there to visit, but to be summoned by the Order…  
  
_“We have to tell him, and we have to tell him _tonight_.”_  
  
_‘What…what would they have to tell me?’_ Alma wondered, as his gaze moved upward. Across the long, mahogany table, Edgar was seated, and adjected to him was Twi. Both had been fairly quiet throughout dinner as well, which truthfully only made Alma all the more anxious.  
  
Edgar looked up, as he noticed Alma’s staring. “Alma, is something wrong?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he shook his head. “Ah, no,” he said, words somewhat rushed. “Um, sorry, I was just…thinking.”  
  
Edgar didn’t say anything at first, though his eyes were somewhat wary. Twi had looked up also, her expression equally pensive.  
  
Edgar offered a reassuring smile, his gaze turning gentle. “That’s okay,” he reassured Alma. “How was your time with Fou? I saw you were tending to the flowers earlier – they look so much better already.”  
  
Meekly, Alma smiled back. “It was good – we just stayed in the forest mostly,” Alma said, as he tried to be conversational. Normal. “A lot of the trees are starting to look better – some of the branches were brittle, but I think they’re okay now…”  
  
“That’s great,” Edgar encouraged. “Things got a little let go, but it’s nice that things seem to be returning to normal.”  
  
Somewhat sharply, Twi’s attention flashed to Edgar. However, she said nothing as she took another bite of her meal.  
  
Alma blinked, as he brought his hand up to rub his neck. As he did this, he felt his fingers instinctively fiddle with the necklace – the one that Tyki had given him.   
  
“Yeah, I guess…” Alma said, his fingers brushing against the cool stones.  
  
Twi looked up once more, her attention landing on Alma yet again. Immediately, she took note of Alma’s fiddling, and a disapproving glimmer appeared in her eyes.   
  
“You’re still wearing it,” she commented, tone for the most part neutral.  
  
Alma’s stomach knotted, and he broke eye contact quickly. “It’s just a necklace,” Alma said, words somewhat quiet. “I already told you that…”  
  
Twi exhaled. “I know you did, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate you continue to wear anything from the Underworld,” she pointed out.  
  
Edgard closed his eyes, as he rubbed his forehead. “Twi…”  
  
“Mother, it’s _not _bad,” Alma said, words beginning to sound exasperated. His mother had already commented on the necklace twice in the last few days, clearly not pleased with Alma having continued to wear it. But Alma just…_couldn’t_ take it off. He didn’t want to.   
  
“Alma, I just wish you wouldn’t wear it,” Twi said, as she turned toward Alma. “After what happened, I don’t understand why you’d even want it in your possession-“  
  
“I just _do_, okay?” Alma spoke out, voice rising a bit as he felt himself becoming unexpectedly emotional. “It’s a _necklace_ – I don’t want to get rid of it, and I’m already doing everything else you want, so can I please just _keep_ it?”  
  
The outburst had been sudden – so much that both Edgar and Twi were somewhat taken aback. Twi especially seemed to struggle with how to respond; it wasn’t like Alma to speak back in such a way. She swiftly tried to regain control of the situation as she remained composed.  
  
Taking a breath, Twi sighed. “You’re right,” she said, as she forced her voice to remain steady. “You’re right…I’m sorry. You don’t have to take it off.”  
  
Despite his mother’s apology, Alma averted his gaze, face somewhat heated after the outburst. A part of him wanted to scold himself; he knew better than to lash out in such a way, but Alma hadn’t been able to stop himself. Not when his mother had asked him to give up…  
  
_‘…The only thing I have left of Tyki…’_ Alma thought, eyes becoming distant. _‘It’s the only thing I have…’_  
  
Dinner remained quiet, with the air somewhat tense. Alma had to force himself to eat at least enough of his dinner so that his parents wouldn’t fret too much. He already saw they were worrying more than normal, with swift glances and exchanged looks. It was beginning to frustrate Alma – he wasn’t delicate, but it was almost as though everyone was treating him as though he were a fragile piece of glass.  
  
Gripping his fork, Alma pressed down onto some of his food, cutting into the potatoes until they were mush.   
  
Twi glanced over, as she noticed how Alma was more or less done eating. She sighed quietly. “Alma, you don’t have to remain if you’re finished…” she spoke, doing her best to keep her tone calm.  
  
Alma looked up. He loosened his grip on his fork, before he looked off to the side. In all honestly, Alma was tempted to take his mother up on the offer and retire to his room. He felt oddly exhausted, and didn’t exactly have much capacity left to force a conversation, even with his parents; retreating to the privacy of his bedroom sounded like pure relief.  
  
However, before Alma could agree, he caught himself, just as he recalled what he had overheard earlier.  
  
Alma’s stomach churned nauseously, but he tried to ignore the sensation as he placed his fork down. He took a small breath as he looked up, his eyes shifting between his parents.   
  
Edgar caught this, and he looked at Alma questioningly. “Alma?”  
  
Alma remained still, as he felt his lungs freeze. It was as though his body wanted to lock up, to keep him from asking – to keep him from uncovering whatever secret had been buried from his eyes, and whatever it was his parents had worried over. It was as though some small part of Alma – some scared, fearful part – just wanted to clasp onto whatever ignorance he had left, and walk away from whatever truth was about to unfold.  
  
Alma didn’t know why, but he was afraid to ask. He truly was.  
  
_“He’ll never forgive us…”_  
  
“What,” Alma began to ask, the words sounding strangely mechanical in his ears. “What…did you need to tell me?”  
  
Edgar and Twi stilled, as both their gazes landed on Alma. Their expressions were caught off guard as they stared at their son questioningly.  
  
Alma swallowed. There had been something of a long pause that had followed, with his parents’ lack of response only more disconcerting. “I…I overheard you both talking earlier,” Alma finally admitted, as he warily watched both of his parents’ faces. “I…didn’t you need to tell me something…?”  
  
Twi blinked, before she snapped back into focus. Frowning, she spoke, words scolding. “Alma, you _know_ better than to eavesdrop.”  
  
“So, you do need to tell me something?” Alma pressed, his mother’s response only confirming that he was right in what he had heard. Uneasily, he looked between his parents. “What is it? Is something wrong?”  
  
The atmosphere shifted, as a wave of tension passed through the air. Quickly, Edgar spoke up. “Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about this right now-“  
  
“No, I want to know what it is!” Alma urged, unable to contain his discomfort. “Why won’t you just tell me? Please, I just want to _know_!”  
  
Edgar quieted, as he glanced over at Twi. “Twi…”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything. Her lips were pressed tightly together, as her brow furrowed. She was looking down though, eyes hard and stony, with every muscle in her body rigid.  
  
Finally, Twi sighed. “Alma, let me speak with your father-“  
  
“_Why_?” Alma questioned, his eyes burning defiantly. “I already know something is going on, and I’m not leaving this table until you tell me what it is!”  
  
Twi’s face turned in Alma’s direction, her gaze still hard. However, there was something else in her face – something that Alma couldn’t quite pin at first. But it caused Alma’s insides to twist, and it made his heart lurch.  
  
What had his parents not told him?  
  
Edgar glanced between Twi and Alma. After a few long, tedious seconds, Edgar exhaled, turning to Alma as he began to speak.  
  
“Alma…we received a message from the Order today,” Edgar said. “The Order is requesting you go to the Acropolis as soon as possible – they’ll be sending someone to collect you tomorrow.”  
  
Alma looked at his father. Although what Edgar has stated was something Alma had overheard already, hearing the words spoken directly to him still shook something in Alma’s core.  
  
“Why?” Alma asked, tone somewhat anxious. “I…did I do something?”  
  
Edgar’s expression fractured, as something pained flickered across his features. However, he tried to continue speaking. “No…no, you didn’t do anything,” Edgar tried to ease, his words somehow leaden still. “But…it’s because of the blood contract you had with the Noah.”  
  
Alma tensed as soon as the contract was mentioned, and quickly he tried to defend himself. “But I didn’t realize it was a contract at the time!”  
  
“We_ know_ that,” Twi spoke, tone once calmer. She looked over at Alma, expression severe. “We know that, and it was proven to be null. We know you didn’t knowingly sign it.”  
  
“Then why is it a problem?” Alma questioned. “It was null, so things are fine now, right?”  
  
Both of Alma’s parents went quiet once more, the air around them uneasy. Somewhat cautiously, Edgar spoke. “It’s…it’s not that simple,” Edgar explained. “You see…for it to have been signed, some part of you would have had to been willing.”  
  
“But I _wasn’t_,” Alma insisted. “I never wanted to go to the Underworld-“  
  
“Alma, please let us finish,” Twi spoke, her voice going strangely quiet. “Just…please, just let us finish.”  
  
Alma blinked, as he glanced over at his mother in confusion. When he did, he felt his heart stop.  
  
Twi’s eyes were watering. They were watering, glassy and filled with an unspoken pain that was indescribable. The sight was a shocking one; Alma had never seen his mother cry, and he had never seen her so distraught. Twi was just always so composed, so strong, and even at times cold – she wasn’t often vulnerable. Not like this.  
  
Somewhat helplessly, Alma looked from his mother to his father, throat dry as he remained silent.  
  
“Alma…you remember eleven years ago we had an akuma attack us here,” Edgar said, words quiet.   
  
Alma nodded. “Y-Yeah…” he said, somewhat uneasily. “Yeah, you said it attacked, but never got inside…”  
  
Edgar’s expression remained somber. “That’s not true,” he admitted, voice still soft. “It…the akuma did get inside. It…broke into your room first.”  
  
Alma stared, as Edgar’s words sank into his ears. “What…?” Alma questioned, voice small. “I…but, you said…“  
  
_Something. He was being pinned by something, trapped onto his bed as it loomed over him, a foul, rotting scent trickling into the air…   
  
_“It…your mother and I heard it, and we tried to get there as quickly as we could. But when we did, it had already trapped you,” Edgar continued, words cautious. “Your mother was able to get you away, but…the akuma had already cut you.”  
  
Alma took a breath, somewhat shallow. He gripped the sides of his chair, his lungs beginning to struggle as the words continued to seep into Alma’s mind. _‘No…’_  
  
_Sharp. There was something sharp, and glinting, and it was coming down at Alma’s face…_  
  
“We thought you would heal at first, but…” Edgar trailed off, words suddenly straining. “There was dark matter in your wound, and you were infected. Because you were so young, it spread quickly and became so severe…we didn’t know what to do. We were afraid that the Order would take you away if they found out, so we asked your grandfather to come…”  
  
Breathing. Alma was struggling to breathe, his lungs stubbornly continued to freeze up. But he couldn’t even think clearly, and he couldn’t _breathe…_  
  
“I…I was _marked_?” Alma finally croaked, voice cracking.  
  
Twi looked up, eyes still glistening. Again, there was that strange look in her eyes – one that Alma suddenly realized was _remorse._  
  
“We did our best to extract what we could,” Twi spoke, voice barely audible. “And we thought we had gotten most of it out, but…”  
  
She trailed off, unable to say whatever it was that she had intended to. However, Edgar knew. He knew, and he finished.  
  
“But…we didn’t. We had always worried that this might have been the case, but…the reason that contract took your blood was because there’s still dark matter in it. It…the dark matter has a natural attraction to the Underworld,” Edgar explained. “And…the Order found out. They found out, and while it meant the contract was null, they…they’re concerned about you being marked.”  
  
Alma took a breath – or at least, he tried to. However, his chest felt tight and his eyes were hot. They were beginning to burn and blur, but Alma didn’t dare to let any tears fall.   
  
Looking back at his parents, Alma spoke, words tense. “Why…why don’t I remember…?”  
  
Both Edgar and Twi stiffened, and Twi’s hand balled into a fist.   
  
“You were young,” Twi spoke, words guilt-ridden. “You were so young, we didn’t know how it would impact you to remember it…”  
  
Alma stared, as a crack of pain rippled throughout him, eyes shocked and rimmed with hurt.   
  
“You…you _repressed_ my memories?” Alma asked, the realization slicing through him like a dull knife.  
  
Edgar looked at Alma, and tried to speak. “Alma-“  
  
“Those were _my memories!”_ Alma broke, as something in him just _snapped_. “Have you just been repressing them all this time? Have you repressed anything _else_?”  
  
“Alma, you were _seven_ – you were too young to have that experience, and we didn’t know what else to do-“ Twi tried to explain.  
  
“Were you ever going to _tell me_?” Alma questioned, his voice beginning to crescendo. “Is that why you’ve never let me go anywhere? Because you thought I wasn’t _stable_?”  
  
“Alma, please just _listen,_” Edgar urged, as he attempted to calm his son. “I know it’s hard to understand, but we couldn’t risk something triggering any dark matter in you-“  
  
“And that’s what the Order is worried about? That I’m like a _bomb_ about to go off?” Alma accused, words growing more heated by the second, his vision once more blurring.   
  
“Alma, they _only _need to make sure that nothing in the Underworld triggered any dark matter in you,” Twi emphasized. “Please do _not_ make this any more difficult than it has to be.”  
  
Alma stared at both of his parents, eyes watering. “I’m not going,” he said, words shaky.   
  
Edgar tried to speak. “Alma-“  
  
Edgar didn’t get a chance to finish, before Alma stood quickly, the chair clattering backwards. Edgar was up in a flash though, Twi rushing after him as they tried to catch Alma as he exited into the hallway.   
  
Just barely, Edgar managed to catch Alma’s wrist, stopping him before he could go any further. “Alma, please _wait_,” Edgar implored. “I know this is upsetting, and you have every right to be angry, but we only wanted to keep you safe-“  
  
Alma whirled around. There were tears glistening in his eyes, expression hurt and broken to bits. However, such didn’t keep Alma from speaking, his next words laced with more pain than he could bear.   
  
“You _isolated me_,” Alma accused, voice cracking. "You isolated me _my whole life_!”  
  
Both Edgar and Twi stilled, the accusation alone enough to stun them into silence. Mutely, they could only stare at Alma, the words seeping into the air like a potent acid.  
  
Taking his chance, Alma tore his wrist from his father’s grasp, and ran as he fled upstairs.  
  
“Alma!” Twi called, as she started after Alma – though she was immediately stopped, her arm caught by Edgar.  
  
“Stop, Twi,” Edgar said, voice low. “Just…just let him go for now. Just…just let him go…”  
  
Twi didn’t speak, as he stared down the hall where the stairs began, the tears in her eyes finally beginning to fall.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma slammed his door shut behind him, the force so strong that the wall nearly shook. A heavy, erratic breath heaved from his chest, his expression crumbling within seconds. Gripping the sides of his head, Alma shut his eyes, his breaths uneven as he felt himself begin to hyperventilate. Desperately, Alma _tried_ to breathe, but he was failing, and his mind continued to spin.  
  
_A thing. It could only be described as a _thing._ Monstrous. Revolting. Long, spidering limbs and a face without eyes…_  
  
Nightmares. Visions. They had started after Alma first visited the Acropolis, but Alma had only thought them to be bad dreams. Bad, terrible dreams that were some kind of a fluke.   
  
_Alma turned, just as he saw Fou appear close by. She walked over, and looked at Alma curiously. “Have you been sleeping in? It’s already past noon.”  
  
Alma rubbed his head somewhat sheepishly. “Ah, yeah,” he said. “I…had a nightmare last night I think, at least…I don’t remember it much.”_  
  
The day Alma was taken. Alma had had a nightmare before then, but couldn’t remember it – had his father erased his memory then, too? Had _Fou_ known…?  
  
Alma bit his lip, so hard that it was sure to bruise. He leaned back against the door, his whole body threatening to collapse. Several thick vines started to tendril over the door, covering it so that no one could get in.   
  
_Alma took a breath, as he spoke quietly. “I just don’t understand why I always have to stay here…”  
  
Gently, Edgar reached over to place a hand on Alma’s shoulder. “I know it probably seems unfair with how strict we are. Your mother just…worries a lot,” Edgar tried to explain. “There’s a lot she has to think about, and she really thought it was in your best interest to come back for now. She didn’t do it for any other reason.”_  
  
All of those years. All of those years, with one excuse after the next as to why Alma could never leave home. All of those years, with Alma only being told that his parents had his best interest at heart, and being told that they only wanted to keep him safe…  
  
All of those years, and they had lied to Alma. They had lied to him.  
  
A broken sob burst from Alma’s lungs, as he wrapped his arms around himself, shoulders trembling with heartache. His parents had lied to him – they had _repressed his memories._ They had manipulated him, and tried to control him, because he had been marked. Because he had been marked, and they were _afraid_.  
  
The realization was enough to push Alma over the edge right then and there.  
  
_“Stop trying to run,” the akuma said, as it brought its face low so that it was just above Alma’s. “You weren’t meant for the light…you belong here…”  
  
Something in Alma snapped, as he struggled. “No,” he said, words shaky. “No, I don’t belong anywhere near you!”  
  
The akuma laughed, voice low and raspy. “Yes, you do,” it taunted, before it brought a bladed hand close to Alma’s face. “You know it, deep down Even your parents do.”  
_  
Alma continued to sob, the sounds so horrid that he tried to cover his own mouth to stifle them. The nightmares, the visions, the experience in the _maze_ – Alma hadn’t understood it then, but he understood it now. He understood what it all meant.  
  
It meant that he was marked, and the Order would want to make sure he wasn’t a threat.  
  
_‘No,’_ Alma thought, tears continuously streaming down his face. _‘No, no, no…’_  
  
Marked deities weren’t often treated well – Allen was but one example, forever bound to the Order and used to do their bidding until he became uncontrollable with dark matter. That was a kind, situation, too – Alma had heard enough stories about other marked deities who had been given less favorable outcomes, forever trapped, and forever imprisoned…  
  
Alma didn’t want to be trapped. He didn’t want to be imprisoned. No, he wanted…  
  
Tyki. He wanted Tyki.  
  
The thought nearly caused Alma to fall to pieces all over again, as he continued to sob. Tyki. Alma missed Tyki – he missed Tyki so much, with every day ever since he had left the Underworld having been torturous. He missed being with Tyki. Tyki, who had never treated Alma like a child. Tyki, who had never made decisions for Alma. Tyki, who had never _lied_ to Alma…  
  
_‘I want to see him again,’_ Alma thought, unable to control his tears. _‘I just want…’_  
  
Alma stopped, as a thought struck him. Breaths still uneven, he blinked, vision hazed as he turned, looking over toward his nightstand. _‘I just..’_  
  
Walking over, Alma pulled the drawer in the nightstand open – inside, of which contained the vial of pomegranate seeds.  
  
Alma stared down at the seeds, before he reached in to take the vial. His hand trembled slightly, the vial cool in his grasp as he recalled Road’s words from the last time he had seen her.  
  
_“I just thought you might want to see Tyki again. Won’t you miss him?”_  
  
Alma gripped the vial close to his chest, as he sank to the ground, his back against the side of the bed as he brought his knees to his chest. His sobs had quieted, though the tears continued to trickle down his cheeks, his body quivering slightly.  
  
_“You might want to hold onto them – maybe the heartbreak will be too much for you.”_  
  
Alma shakily exhaled, his eyes moving to the vial. Inside, the pomegranate seeds glistened like tiny, blood red garnets, still somehow fresh and pristine.  
  
_‘The Underworld,’_ a small, quiet voice warned Alma. _‘They’re from the Underworld…’_  
  
Wavering, Alma felt his heart rattle in his ribcage, stomach knotting into pretzels. He actually felt a bit sick, body depleted from his breakdown, eyes red and cheeks wet. Alma was so exhausted that he wanted to sleep, but every time he hoped his thoughts might quiet, he remembered what his parents had told him…  
  
Alma didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to go somewhere else. He wanted to see _Tyki_…  
  
Hurriedly, Alma uncorked the vial, turning it up so that several seeds spilled into the palm of his hand.  
  
Again, Alma found himself hesitating, as he stared at the seeds, grasp shaking slightly.  
  
_‘Just a few,’_ Alma told himself, as a few more tears trickled down his face. _‘Just a few…’_  
  
Bringing his palm to his mouth, Alma ate the seeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day - here’s a mess of a chapter. :,D
> 
> It was never going to be an easy, picturesque reunion for Alma and his family. While Alma _was_ relieved to see his family, there’s a lot of shock with coming back. He’s been in this other environment for over six weeks, and he’s also just not going to be the exact same person after that experience (plus, there’s the added weight of that he now has these feelings for Tyki, and he’s struggling with processing those, but this sensation of being back). It doesn’t exactly help with how his parents (mainly Twi) react when he returns, and the whole thing is really just a bit much for him.
> 
> In general, it’s a delicate situation. This is clear in how everyone acts around Alma when he’s back - which, is what tips him off something isn’t exactly right. Deep down, Alma has probably always known something was strange with how isolated he was kept - but since it wasn’t until recently he went to the Underworld, those thoughts never surfaced fully. He really had a blind trust in his family (though, being int he Underworld caused him to question things - especially with hearing about what happened to Tyki and his grandfather’s role in that). That’s what makes it so devastating when he’s told about being marked, and how his whole family has essentially lied to him that whole time.
> 
> I think something a lot of kids go through at some point is realizing your parents are flawed, and sometimes do terrible things (even if they’re not inherently bad people). And I feel like depending on how and when you realize this, it’s brutal. Twi and Edgar aren’t horrible people, but they really did a messed up thing. (To be fair, they didn’t exactly have that many good options - but this is also what scares Alma about being marked. He _knows_ his parents tried to keep it from the Order from a reason, and no matter how curious Alma was about seeing the Acropolis before, these are _not_ the circumstances under which he would ever want to be forced to go.)
> 
> Anyways, it mades sense to me that this would be the thing to really push Alma to take those pomegranate seeds. Yes, he wants to see Tyki, but he also wants to escape. At that point, Alma realizes he doesn’t have any options either: he can’t run away, or his family and the Order will likely track him quickly, and that really only leaves the Underworld. Since Tyki is also the one person who hasn’t lied to Alma, it’s only natural he’s the one Alma would want to run to. (Originally, the first draft of this was way different and Alma was tricked into taking the seeds without knowing what they were - but that just didn’t work, and it didn’t feel right until this became a choice Alma made.)
> 
> But yeah - we have two full chapters and the epilogue after this! ;__; AAAAAAA.
> 
> Comments and feedback welcome as always!


	28. The Seeds

The Underworld was still dark and it was still cold.  
  
It never changed. It never would. Tyki certainly wasn’t surprised; he had been in the Underworld for so long that he sometimes felt as though he were trapped in a loop. The same darkness. The same faces. The akuma came and went, withering away to nothing if they were weak enough, and the other Noah remained, continuing on with their existence just as Tyki did. Repressed. Confined. _Restricted_.  
  
It often made Tyki angry. It was a quiet sort of anger, one that slithered within him like a nest of venomous serpents, coiled up tightly and waiting to strike. It simmered, low and concealed, yet periodically flickering in his eyes like some fleeting glance of an apparition. It would be there, and scalding.  
  
Now, Tyki was tired. He was too tired to even care.  
  
There was a breeze in the air, chilled and drafty. It almost felt as though there were tiny fragments of ice in the air, its touch so cold that it felt like sharp crystals prickling against Tyki’s skin. He didn’t mind though, the sensation a dull one. If anything, it was but a mere nudge in the back of his mind – small and insufficient. Meaningless.  
  
Tyki leaned forward, elbows propped on the railing of the balcony. He was up on one of the higher ones that faced out toward the maze, the gardens sprawling below before the hedges spiraled out into the darkness. Beyond that, the silhouettes of broken, twisted buildings loomed in the distance.  
  
Tyki brought a half-used cigarette to his lips. He snapped his fingers, igniting a flame. Lighting the end of the cigarette, Tyki took a drag.  
  
Maybe, he would go out. He needed to do something. Anything. Just not…  
  
_Carefully, Alma slipped the flower into Tyki’s hand, closing Tyki’s fingers over the fist. His touch rested there, light and soft against Tyki’s grasp, the warmth of the blossom pulsating softly.  
  
Tyki looked up from their hands, his eyes meeting Alma’s bright blue ones instantly._  
  
Tyki frowned, the memory trickling into the forefront of his mind like some small, taunting whisper in his ear. It was a nuisance, really; every time he turned, those memories threatened to seep into his consciousness. Alma’s eyes. Alma’s touch. Tyki hadn’t even thought he’d been _that_ attached to Flower Boy, but…  
  
Taking his hand, Tyki opened it so that the palm was facing up. There was a wisp of dark smoke, and the orchid flower that Alma had given him materialized.  
  
There was a click of a step, and immediately, Tyki made the flower disappear, its form melting away into smoke.  
  
A few more steps echoed, before Road walked out from the shadows. Her footsteps were light, and her eyes were sharp; her attention landed on Tyki immediately, as she smiled.  
  
“Tyki,” Road sang, before she skipped to where the railing was. Turning around, she leaned so that her back was pressed against the balcony railing, as she glanced over at Tyki curiously.  
  
Tyki continued to look onward, taking the cigarette from his lips. “What is it, Road?”  
  
“I just came to check on you,” Road said.   
  
Tyki’s attention flickered over to Road, as he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think I needed to be checked on,” he commented, somewhat nonchalantly. “What made you think that?”  
  
Road hummed. “I don’t know,” she spoke somewhat airily. “You just seem a little…_sad_, lately.”  
  
Inside, Tyki felt a pinch – an aggravating one, that sent an unexpected _sear_ through his veins. Tyki was swift to repress it though, as he kept his posture languid and his expression neutral.   
  
“Sad? Nah. Just a bit bored is all,” Tyki said, brushing off the concern with ease.  
  
Road eyed Tyki. Her expression was somewhat unreadable as she watched him carefully, her gaze never once straying. Finally, she exhaled, as she walked over to where Tyki was.  
  
Without warning, Road wrapped her arms around Tyki’s waist. “Tykiiii,” Road spoke, as she clung to him. “Tyki, don’t tell me you’re upset about the Chang…”  
  
As soon as the name was mentioned, Tyki’s muscles tensed. He strained to fight it, and to fight any reaction that may have given him away to Road. However, he found himself stuck, aggravated by his own weakness.  
  
Road sighed, as she kept her arms around Tyki. “I wish you wouldn’t do that – getting so attached to things you shouldn’t…” she said, words soft. “It’s not healthy, and now I feel badly about it. I hate seeing you upset.”  
  
Tyki laughed, the sound dry. “I didn’t get attached to him, and I’m definitely not upset,” Tyki countered, words somewhat shorter than normal. “I was bored, and he was kind of entertaining. Definitely shook things up with having him here…”  
  
Road hummed. She let go of Tyki, leaning back against the rail with her hands behind her. “Mmm. Perhaps he’ll come back,” Road said thoughtfully. “He certainly seemed to like _you_ a lot…”  
  
Somewhat sharply, Tyki looked at Road. He chuckled, as he dabbed the ashes off of his cigarette. “Don’t tease me. You know now that he’s home, he’ll be there to stay,” Tyki said, words low, and even a bit bitter. “Flower Boy won’t ever come back to a place like this…”  
  
Road giggled, the sound gentle and bell-like. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, as she looked over at Tyki with a knowing gaze. “Maybe he will.”  
  
Tyki blinked as he glanced back at Road. A small frown tugged at his lips, his gaze wary.   
  
Road didn’t allow Tyki a chance to ask any questions, before she pushed herself off of the railing, skipping away as she melted back into the darkness.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The night was a long one for Twi.   
  
She hadn’t been able to sleep after Alma had run off, slamming his door shut as he locked everyone out of his room. There had not even been much of an opportunity for her to _try_ to reason with Alma; as soon as he had locked himself away, he had completely covered his door with vines, concealing the knob and even parts of the wall. The vines were brambles, too: thorny, and unwelcoming. They were a clear indicator of how badly Alma wanted to be alone – and of how badly Alma wanted his parents to leave him alone.  
  
It had been a knife into Twi’s heart to see it.  
  
Twi couldn’t blame Alma. She couldn’t blame him for being hurt, and for being angry – not with all that Twi and Edgar had kept from him. Not with all that they had put him through.  
  
Twi brought her fingers to her forehead, as she tried to ease the wretched headache that plagued her. It was no use; the stress of the situation had taken its toll, with Alma’s hurt words echoing in her ears.   
  
_“You _isolated me_ – you isolated me _my whole life_!”_  
  
Twi tugged at a thin, cream-colored shawl around her shoulders, as she remained in the chamber beneath their home. In front of her, the globe of the earth illuminated as she focused on the areas of land that had become so severely neglected the last few weeks. Dried soil, weakened harvests – it really had become a disaster, and one that Twi never would have allowed to have occurred before. Now, she was doing her best to repair what she could.  
  
Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as she would have hoped.  
  
The sound of the door creaked open. Twi glanced back, just as she saw Edgar descending into the chamber. She looked back at the globe as she focused on one patch of area in particular, a gentle light emitting from her hand as she waved over it.  
  
“He still hasn’t come out,” Twi spoke, the words more of a statement than a question.  
  
Edgar sighed, the mere action all Twi needed to hear to know the answer. “He hasn’t,” Edgar confirmed, as he walked over to where Twi was. “The nymphs haven’t even seen him even open his door…”  
  
Twi paused her work, the light from her hand fading. She glanced back at Edgar. A regretful look flashed in her eyes, her brow pinching together in remorse.  
  
Averting her gaze, Twi spoke. “He’ll never trust us after this.”  
  
“It wasn’t going to be easy, no matter how we told him,” Edgar said. “But…we couldn’t avoid it. Especially after what happened…”  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed, her attention shifting to Edgar. A pensive look gleamed in her eyes. “We shouldn’t force him to go to the Acropolis,” Twi said. “Not…not like this. Not with how distraught he is.”  
  
Edgar paused. He appeared torn, with uncertainty brimming in his eyes as he took a small breath. “Twi, I don’t think we have much of a choice at this point,” Edgar said, words soft. “The Order is already angry enough we didn’t say anything about Alma being marked, and they’re not going to listen if we refuse to send Alma there.”  
  
“Then I’ll _make_ them listen,” Twi spoke, gaze heated with determination. “It’s…it’s not right. We don’t even know how the Order will _treat _him once he’s there-“  
  
Twi broke off, as a wave of fresh emotion overcame her. Abrupt, uncontrollable – it wasn’t like Twi to react in such a way. But the thought of her youngest child being taken to the Acropolis, and the thought of him being branded as something _dangerous_ –  
  
She couldn’t bear it.  
  
Edgar walked over, as he placed a hand on Twi’s shoulder. “Twi,” he started. “Bak…he’ll be there, and so will Zuu. I know this isn’t what we wanted to happen, but…we can’t fight it anymore.”  
  
Twi looked away, somewhat stubbornly. She exhaled as she tried to get herself under control. “Has anyone come yet?”  
  
Edgar shook his head. “Not yet…but I imagine the Order will send someone soon,” he said. “They didn’t say what time in the letter specifically, but only that it would be sometime today.”  
  
Twi nodded, the words less than comforting. “Maybe…maybe one of us should try talking to Alma again,” she suggested, though the words felt strained. “At least before anyone comes…”  
  
Edgar nodded in agreement. “We can go up and see if any of the vines have lessened.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything more. They both left the chamber, ascending the stairs before the exited into the ground level hallway. As they reached the stairs to the second floor, Edgar looked at Twi.  
  
“We both probably shouldn’t try, or else he might get overwhelmed,” Edgar suggested.  
  
Twi paused, expression contemplative. “Let me try this time.”  
  
Edgar didn’t argue, and Twi began to walk upstairs-  
  
Down the hall, there was a knock at the front doors. Twi stilled, her and Edgar’s attention shifting to the main entry hall. Already, one of the nymphs was answering the door, with faint voices audible in the distance.  
  
Briefly exchanging glances, Twi and Edgar walked over.  
  
“I can let them know,” the nymph was saying, before she turned, having heard Twi and Edgar approaching. Quickly, the nymph stepped out of the way, allowing for Twi and Edgar to see who was outside.  
  
When they looked, they saw it was Allen – and Bak.  
  
Edgar blinked, more surprised to see his oldest son than Allen in that moment. “Bak?”  
  
Bak looked back at Edgar, before his gaze shifted to Twi. His eyes flashed uneasily, as he remained somewhat tongue-tied. He opened his mouth to try to speak, but no words came out; a somewhat awkward silence ensued.  
  
Noticing this, Allen stepped forward as he spoke. “The Order sent me…to collect Alma,” he explained. He glanced over toward Bak. “They wanted Bak to escort him with me as well.”  
  
Twi frowned, her attention shifting to Bak. There was an almost betrayed look in her eyes, with a scold on the tip of her tongue.  
  
Quickly, Bak spoke. “They thought Alma might feel more comfortable if I went with him,” he explained. “I didn’t know if it’d help, but I thought…that maybe it would be better than him coming by himself.”  
  
Edgar nodded. He wasn’t blind to the tension in the air though, and tried to break it. “Of course,” he said. “Let’s…let’s go inside for a bit and sit down.”  
  
No one argued with the suggestion, as they all went inside. Allen was somewhat cautious though; he wasn’t typically invited into places, though out of politeness he obliged. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a few nymphs down the hallway peeping out anxiously, their attention naturally flickering to his marred face and discolored arm.  
  
Ignoring it, Allen followed the others into the sitting room.  
  
Edgar turned to Bak and Allen. “Alma’s still in his room…he hasn’t come out since we told him,” he explained. “He…didn’t exactly react well.”  
  
“It must have been a shock for him,” Allen spoke, words sympathetic.  
  
“It wasn’t as though he was in a good place to hear it as it was,” Twi clipped. “Not when he’s only been back home for a few days.”  
  
At this, Bak looked at Twi. A frown appeared on his face. “We’re lucky he’s back at all. Even if the Order had to learned he’s marked, it was better than leaving him in the Underworld.”  
  
The response was more heated than Bak had meant for it to be, which earned him a sharp look from his mother, the tension in the air already beginning to increase once more.   
  
“We understand that,” Edgar said, quickly sensing the discord. “But the last few days haven’t been easy for anyone. Especially your brother. We’re just worried about how he’s handling everything.”  
  
Bak’s frown remained, and he found himself biting back a remark – one that was more serrated than normal. He took a breath, as he tried to ignore the hot itch that was beginning to form at the back of his neck. “You said Alma was in his room?”  
  
“He’s been there since yesterday evening,” Edgar said.   
  
“I’ll try to talk to him,” Bak said, as he stood up.  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed, as she spoke somewhat defensively. “He won’t talk to anyone-“  
  
“Let me _try_,” Bak insisted, before he looked at both of his parents. “He might talk to me.”  
  
Somewhat defeated, Twi exhaled, saying nothing more.  
  
Bak took his chance, leaving the room before anyone could find a reason to persuade him to stay. He walked quickly, turning toward the staircase as soon as he reached it, but immediately wavering as soon as his foot touched the first step.  
  
_‘Just talk to him,’_ Bak told himself, as he took a small breath. _‘He’s your younger brother – just try to _be there_ for him…’_  
  
Bak tried to tell himself to do this, but inside, he felt a struggle. There was no telling if Alma would want to talk to Bak either after what all had happened.  
  
Knowing there was not much else he could do, Bak finally forced himself to walk up the stairs. His steps were even and light, as he was careful not to cause too much noise, and his gaze soon landed on Alma’s door-  
  
Bak froze.  
  
There were vines covering it – that much, Bak couldn’t say he was surprised by. He knew well enough that if Alma didn’t want to speak to anyone, he find some way to barricade himself in his room. However, what Bak couldn’t help but notice was the state of the vines: some of them browning and dry. Still intact, but poor in health.  
  
Bak frowned, as something uneasy scraped against his nerves. Swiftly, he walked to the door. “Alma?” he called. “Alma, it’s Bak.”  
  
There was no response – not even a peep, or a shift of the vines. There was just _silence_, as Bak remained outside the door, unnerved as his concern festered.  
  
Taking another breath, Bak finally tried to knock, hitting against some of the vines in the process. “Alma-?”  
  
He cut off, as a gasp escaped him. As soon as he had knocked against some of the vines they crumbled, collapsing onto the ground as deadened debris.  
  
Bak stared, somewhat shocked at first. He quickly snapped out of his daze though, alarm filling him as he returned his attention to the door. Taking the knob, Bak tried to open it.   
  
“Alma,” Bak began to call, voice growing unnerved. “Alma, open the door!”  
  
He tried to push it open, but the door wouldn’t budge. This only spurned on Bak’s worry, as he rammed his shoulder into the door. Several more vines collapsed. “_Alma_!”  
  
With no answer coming, Bak took a step back. He cursed under his breath as he held his hand over the lock, murmuring a few foreign words. A spark of blue light flashed, breaking the lock. Hurriedly, he pushed into the room. “Alma-!”  
  
Bak cut off as soon as he was inside, his gaze scanning the room. Immediately, attention shifted toward the nightstand – just where he saw a limp body on the ground.  
  
Panic flaring throughout Bak, he rushed over to Alma. “Alma,” Bak said, words shaking as he knelt beside his brother. Since Alma was on his side, Bak tried to move him, rolling him so he was on his back. “Alma, wake up!”  
  
There was the sound of more footsteps, but they were dull noises in Bak’s ears as he continued to try to shake Alma. “_Alma_-!”  
  
“What’s going on?” Edgar asked, as he ran inside. He stopped as soon as his attention landed on Alma, with a paralysis of shock overtaking him.  
  
Twi pushed past Edgar. Her eye bulged the second she saw Alma’s state, her hands covering her mouth.  
  
Hurriedly, Twi ran to where Alma was. Her composure immediately began to crumble to bits as she took Alma by the shoulders, wrapping her arms around him. “Alma,” she said, words shaky. “Alma, wake up-“  
  
“What _happened_!?” Edgar asked.  
  
Bak looked back at his father, completely helpless. “I-I don’t know,” he tried to explain. “The vines were starting to rot on the door, and he was like this when I came inside-“  
  
“Alma, _wake up_,” Twi pleaded, as she continued to try to rouse Alma. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice how _pale _he looked; there was not an ounce of color in his cheeks, and his breathing was shallow. Labored.  
  
“Here – help me get him into bed,” Edgar said, as he went over to move Alma.  
  
Bak moved out of the way, as Twi kept close, helping Edgar as they situated Alma. While they did so, Bak looked around, before his eyes landed on a strange, small vial on the ground near where Alma had been.  
  
Frowning, Bak picked up the vial. There appeared to be some sort of red seeds inside, bright and jewel-like. _‘What…?’_  
  
Taking the vial, Bak looked over toward the door. He caught sight of Allen, who too seemed alarmed by the ordeal.  
  
“What happened?” Allen asked, as Bak rushed over to him.   
  
“I don’t know,” Bak said, before he showed Allen the vial. “But…this was next to Alma when I found him. I have no idea what it is.”  
  
Allen took the vial, as he eyed it. He frowned, before something slowly began to dawn on him. Eyes widening, alarm filled his eyes. “These are pomegranate seeds,” Allen said, before he looked back at Bak. “They grow in the Underworld.”  
  
“What?” Bak questioned. “But…but why-“  
  
“He’s _not waking up,_” Twi was saying, sounding as though she were about to break down right then and there. She had gotten on the side of the bed beside Alma, still trying to get him to respond – but there was no success, as Alma remained completely unresponsive. “What’s wrong with him? He’s _freezing_!”  
  
“Alma must have taken some of these,” Allen said, as he held up the vial. “It’s food from the Underworld, and it’s the only explanation-“  
  
“What? Alma would _never_ take anything from there!” Twi argued.  
  
“Food from the Underworld binds people there,” Edgar spoke, words wary. “But why is he-?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Allen said. “But if he’s taken anything from the Underworld, he should be taken back there-“  
  
“Absolutely _not_!” Twi spoke, words scathingly protective. “I refuse to let him be taken back to that place, especially when he’s like _this_!“  
  
“We can’t just _leave him_,” Bak spoke up, as he stepped in. Turning back to Allen, he posed a question. “Is there any other way to do something? _Anything_?”  
  
Allen’s eyes hardened. “The only other option would be to bring someone more knowledgeable in how the Underworld works here,” he said, as he eyed the others warily. “It would mean allowing a Noah to come here – _if _they’d even agree to it.”  
  
There was a silence that befell the room.  
  
Twi was the first to break the silence, once again vocalizing her displeasure. “We are _not_ allowing the likes of them here!” she claimed, as she held onto Alma. “I don’t want them _anywhere near him_-“  
  
“He’s only going to get _worse_,” Allen spoke up. “He’s been bound to the Underworld – unless he goes back, the only chance he has of being alright is if a Noah can do something about it.”  
  
Twi didn’t say anything more, as she looked over at Edgar. To her displeasure, she could see a contemplative look in his eyes. “Edgar, you’re not honestly considering this?”  
  
Edgar paused, before speaking cautiously. “Twi, if a Noah comes into this realm…their powers will be bound. If anything, at least we won’t have to send Alma back to where we can’t be with him…”  
  
Twi remained tense. She looked as though she were fighting a battle within herself, with one side still against the idea, with the other being desperate for any way to help Alma. Torn, she tore her gaze back to Alma, whose strained breathing was weak and shallow.  
  
Weakly, Twi nodded her head.  
  
Bak looked back at Allen. “Do you know of any way to persuade one of the Noah to come?”  
  
“I can’t promise any will agree to it,” Allen said. “But…one might.”  
  
“Do what you can,” Edgar said. “Just…please, do whatever you can.”  
  
Allen nodded, expression grave. “I will.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Tyki eventually left the castle.  
  
It had only been a matter of time before he did so. The stagnancy, the mundanity – Tyki was too restless for it, with an aggravated nudge pinching at the nape of his neck. It nipped and prickled, like a sharp needle digging itself into his spine.  
  
_Sad. His eyes were sad, with that bleary, glazed look in them that only promised fresh tears. Heartbroken. Heart-wrenching.  
  
“I’m…I’m not going to be able to see you again…”_  
  
A curse lingering on the tip of his tongue, Tyki once more tried to repress the memories – the memories of Alma that continued to fester in his mind. It was like an infection that continued to spread, unrelenting and consuming. Tyki just hadn’t been able to forget Alma ever since he left the Underworld. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.  
  
Damn it, why couldn’t Tyki just _stop thinking about him_? Alma had been a hostage. A means to an end. Yes, Tyki had started to play with him, but that was all it had been. A game. It had just been a _game_…  
  
It had been a game, and somehow Tyki had been the one to get played.  
  
The cool air brushed against Tyki’s skin as he approached near where the entrance to the maze was. As always, the entrance was dark: an abyss of shadows that stretched on, offering nothing but fear and misery for anyone who dared to enter. Anyone except for the Noah. Tyki knew how to navigate it, so for him, it wasn’t a problem. The Noah controlled the maze, understanding it and manipulating it to their very will. They could wander through it without a second thought, and escape to the broken and forsaken city just on the other side.  
  
Maybe, Tyki would go there for a bit. Maybe he would go for a while.  
  
No, probably not a while – he had already been distracted more than he should have been the last few days. It was inevitable that the other Noah had begun to notice. Sideway glances and pensive frowns – the rest of Tyki’s family knew that he wasn’t as present as normal, with his aloofness rampant.   
  
It wouldn’t do well for Tyki to remain in such a way. The Millennium Earl was giving more assignments, and once more beginning to whisper orders in their ears. Take a few akuma. Slip them away. Slip them away through a crack…  
  
Slip them through an ark door.  
  
They had to be careful. The Noah were limited in their use of ark doors, being unable to go through the doors themselves due to the restrictions imposed by the Order. However, what the Order didn’t realize was that the Noah could still _open_ doors – that was how Tyki had been able to get food for Alma in the first place. Send a servant to collect things, send an akuma out to destroy things after…  
  
Anything. Anything to make the Order collapse. To make them see that they couldn’t win. Tyki didn’t know how much longer it would go on for until something finally snapped. But eventually, something would.  
  
Another breeze wisped past Tyki, causing several long, dark strands to fall across his face. It was a stronger gust, that carried something with it – something familiar.  
  
There was a _spark,_ and Tyki turned, just as he could see a portal of light forming. A narrow tear form, acting as a door, before a figure stepped out.  
  
Slowly, a smile stretched across Tyki’s face, intrigue filling his eyes. “Well, well,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”  
  
Allen stepped forward, the door of light shutting behind him. His expression was grave, as his silvery eyes met Tyki’s. “I need your help,” he said, words direct.  
  
Tyki raised an eyebrow, his curiosity continuing to burn. “My help? Now I’m even more intrigued,” Tyki said, as he crossed his arms. “How could I _possibly_ be of service to you? Or is this on behalf of the oh-so-majestic Order?”  
  
Allen’s eyes flashed, an annoyed look appearing on his face. He ignored the quip though, keeping his tone hard. “It’s on behalf of the Chang Family – it’s about Alma.”  
  
As soon as the name was dropped, the amusement in Tyki’s face died. He frowned, expression turning cold. “Sorry – Flower Boy isn’t really my concern anymore.”  
  
Allen’s eyes darkened, a glare forming. Without saying anything, he reached into the pouch attached to his belt and pulled out a small vial.   
  
“He should be,” Allen said, as he held up the vial. “Considering he was given _these_ before he left.”  
  
Tyki blinked, as he registered what was in the vial. At first, he wasn’t sure; he only noticed the red color, vibrant and bloody in its pigmentation. But as Tyki stared, he slowly began to realize what they were, surprise filling him.  
  
Eyes sparking, Tyki looked back at Allen. “I didn’t give them to him if that’s what you came to accuse me of,” he stated.  
  
“I didn’t say you did,” Allen said. “But someone did, and Alma must have taken several – he won’t wake up now.”  
  
Tyki stilled. It was as though a sheet of ice had befallen Tyki, draping over his very flesh like a shroud of winter. Dark. Relentless. Tyki almost couldn’t even respond, too rigid and too frozen. He just couldn’t think about anything, except those words that Allen had just spoken.  
  
_“He won’t wake up now.”_  
  
In the blink of an eye, Tyki once more closed off that part of himself – that side that felt a little too deeply, and that was far too attached. He closed off that part of himself, and within seconds, Tyki’s golden eyes were hard, as he looked at Allen coolly.  
  
“And? I don’t see what you could expect _me_ to do about it,” Tyki spoke.   
  
Allen’s eyes narrowed, as he held his ground. “Tyki, if Alma has been bound to the Underworld, then he won’t be able to live outside it for long-“  
  
“I’m sorry – does that seem like _my_ it’s my problem to you?” Tyki questioned, as he turned to leave. “Seriously. The Changs must be pretty desperate to have sent you _here_ of all places. Especially when I couldn’t care less about Flower Boy.”  
  
“That’s not true.”  
  
Tyki stopped walking. He didn’t turn, as Allen’s words seeped into his ears, causing every muscle in his body to tense and tighten.  
  
Allen watched, gaze intense. “That’s not true, is it?” he repeated, before continuing. “I saw you when I came to take Alma – and you didn’t want him to leave. That’s almost why you didn’t to say goodbye to him. You didn’t _want_ to.”  
  
Tyki still didn’t say anything, as he remained still. Just ahead of him was the entrance of the maze, but Tyki couldn’t seem to focus on that anymore; no, he couldn’t focus on that…  
  
A low, quiet chuckle escaped Tyki. “That’s quite an assumption you’re making,” Tyki observed. “Insinuating that a Noah could actually care for some _Chang_…”  
  
Allen remained unwavering. “I’m not going to stand here and waste time arguing. You can deny what you want. But if you really can stand there and say you don’t care what happens to Alma, then I’ll leave,” Allen said. “I only came because I couldn’t think of any other Noah who would be willing to help.”  
  
Allen didn’t say anymore after that, the air falling silent. Tyki didn’t leave though; he still looked forward, the maze just in front of him. With ease, Tyki could have slipped inside. He could have slipped away into the darkness, leaving Allen without so much as a spare thought. After all, Tyki was a _Noah_ – he was no ally to the Order. He was no ally to the _Changs_.  
  
He was no ally to any of them, except…  
  
_Alma smiled, the sight sweet and lovely. His eyes were bright – so much that they reminded Tyki of the sky, filled with warmth and endlessly blue…_  
  
Tyki’s jaw clenched, as a sharp _sting_ seared in his chest; it was almost as though a needle of longing had been woven through his very core. Suffering. Agonizing – Tyki hated it. He hated how deeply the sensation ran, and he hated that…  
  
He hated that Allen was right.  
  
Another door shut inside Tyki, and once more, he felt himself go numb. Calm. That languid ease once more returned to his posture, and finally, Tyki turned back to face Allen.  
  
“Alright then,” he said. “What do you need me to do?”  
  
Allen blinked, for a second appearing surprised. He quickly refocused though, as he spoke.  
  
“You need to come with me,” Allen said. “You need to come with me to the upper world.”  
  
To this, Tyki grinned. “We better get a move on then.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Dark. It was so dark where he was…  
  
Alma didn’t recognize anything. It was so dark, and it was cold; there were tall hedges all around him, a stony path spiraling throughout and not a soul in sight. The sky above was onyx, and the air was still. Unmoving. Soundless.  
  
It reminded Alma of somewhere, but he couldn’t think of what.  
  
Alma wrapped his arms around his body, the action doing little to provide warmth. His legs felt strangely weak though, and eventually, Alma slumped to the ground, his breath leaving his lips in a small puff of smoke. _‘It’s so cold…’_  
  
Perhaps, Alma should have been more alarmed. Perhaps, he should have been more frightened. But Alma couldn’t feel any of those things at that moment. He was so tired, and his eyelids were so _heavy_…  
  
Eventually, Alma lost consciousness.  
_  
  


* * *

  
  
As soon as they arrived to the Changs’ home, Tyki knew that he wasn’t welcomed.  
  
It was something he felt immediately, beginning with the binding that appeared on his wrist the moment he exited the crevice leading out of the Underworld. The silver band reformed around Tyki’s wrist, smothering his powers instantly. It was a stifling sensation, restricted and confined as though he had been placed into an invisible cage.  
  
Demeaning. Aggravating. Tyki had a list of words he could have used to describe the experience, but he didn’t bother to focus on that.   
  
The sky was bright – just as bright as it had been when Tyki had been last escorted to the Acropolis. His pupils constricted, as his sight swiftly tried to adjust to the brightness; within a few seconds, Tyki was able to focus enough though, and he looked around to take in their surroundings. The area was something of a forest, with flowers carpeting the ground. It was a picturesque scene, and one that Tyki could easily envision Alma living in.  
  
_‘Alma…’_ Tyki thought, a small frown forming on his lips.  
  
Allen looked over at Tyki, quickly taking note of the band on his wrist. “This way,” he said, before he began to lead the Noah along,  
  
Tyki followed. They didn’t have to walk far, as they quickly arrived in something of a clearing where an estate was visible. It was a modest one compared to Tyki’s home, still nice but not anything that Tyki would have called ornate.   
  
As they approached the front, Tyki caught sight of the door opening. Two young nymphs poked their faces out, both uneasy and wary. Their attention landed on Tyki quickly though, and without getting a chance to speak, one of the nymphs darted away, while the other remained nervously.  
  
Allen addressed the nymph. “I’ve brought the Noah as the Changs requested.”  
  
The nymph’s eyes once more shifted, as she looked at Tyki anxiously. However, she seemed to understand the situation, and nodded her head. Stepping aside, she allowed them entry.  
  
“M-my masters told me to let you into the sitting room whenever you arrived,” the nymph stammered. “You’ll need to wait there for now.”  
  
Allen nodded. “Of course.”  
  
The nymph didn’t say anything more as she led them into the sitting room. Allen didn’t bother to take a seat though, and Tyki did the same.   
  
As soon as the nymph stepped out, Tyki looked over at Allen. “Well, _this _is welcoming…”  
  
Allen’s eyes flashed, as he looked at Tyki with a small frown. “You can’t exactly blame the nymphs for being nervous,” he pointed out. “Especially with how on edge everyone is now that…”  
  
Allen trailed off. However, Tyki didn’t need him to finish to know what he had intended to say: now that Alma wasn’t well.  
  
Amusement dying in his eyes, Tyki turned, as he glanced toward the window. Despite his attempts to quell his emotions, he struggled. He struggled to keep those reckless emotions in check – the very kind that he knew his family frowned upon. The very kind that always got him too _attached_ to things…  
  
All of this time, and Tyki really had never learned any better.  
  
Silence loomed in the room, as Tyki and Allen waited. The seconds felt long, and tedious – so much, that Tyki began to grow frustrated. The Changs had demanded his presence, so why were they taking so long? Normally, such wouldn’t have bothered Tyki. But, this situation wasn’t normal. It wasn’t usual, and Tyki didn’t have time.  
  
Alma didn’t have time.  
  
Slowly, Tyki felt an itch for a cigarette. He was almost tempted to light one too.  
  
Before Tyki could do such, the door opened. As Tyki looked, he saw two men walk inside. One, he recognized as the Chang he had seen at the Acropolis – Bak. The other man was a bit older, though there was a striking resemblance between him and Bak, with the same light hair and youthful features.  
  
Quickly, Tyki realized that this must have been Bak’s father – _Alma’s_ father.  
  
Edgar’s gaze landed on Tyki immediately, expression hardening.  
  
There was tense silence, with no one speaking at first. Even Tyki, who usually was so at ease and languid, didn’t try to say anything; he could feel both Changs’ intense gazes on him, which were ridden with distrust.  
  
Allen tried to break the silence, as he addressed Edgar. “This is Tyki,” he said. “He’s the Noah who I thought might be able to help.”  
  
Edgar nodded, his expression wary. “I see,” he said, before he glanced back at Tyki. “And Allen’s told you why you’re here?”  
  
Tyki’s eyes met Edgar’s. “He did,” he spoke, words smooth. “Heard Alma took something he shouldn’t have.”  
  
“Or that someone _gave _him something,” Bak added, eyes narrowed.  
  
“Bak,” Edgar warned, causing Bak to fall quiet. Edgar turned back to Tyki, gaze heavy with fatigue. “Can you help at all?”  
  
Tyki paused, his eyes shifting between Edgar and Bak. “Maybe,” he said. “I’d have to see Alma first though…”  
  
Edgar and Bak both tensed a bit at the suggestion, but neither outright disagreed. After exchanging brief glances, Edgar looked back at Tyki and nodded. “Very well,” he said, words somewhat strained. “This way.”  
  
Tyki followed Edgar, though he noticed that Bak and Allen remained behind. He didn’t worry too much though; he couldn’t say that he liked being crowded by a bunch of people, and the situation was tense enough as it was. Even Tyki couldn’t ignore the discomfort that came with that.  
  
It didn’t help that the closer he got to seeing Alma, the more unsettled Tyki became.  
  
They walked up the stairs, only going a bit down the hall before they came to a room. The door was slightly cracked open, with Tyki not being able to see clearly inside. Edgar moved just ahead of him, as he pushed the door open.  
  
It was a bedroom – Alma’s bedroom, Tyki realized. Had the situation been different, Tyki probably would have spent his time observing the details, taking in the books and trinkets that Alma had. However, his attention immediately went to the bed – where Alma’s unconscious form remained.  
  
Quickly, Tyki saw that Alma wasn’t alone.  
  
Twi was there. She had pulled up a chair so she was seated beside Alma, watching him intently. Her gaze was deeply focused and her face lined with worry – but that focus was shattered, as soon as she heard the slight creak of the door opening, her body shifting so she could look back.  
  
As soon as she saw Tyki, her eyes darkened.  
  
Twi stood up. “Why is he in here?” she demanded, addressing Edgar specifically.  
  
Tyki felt a tinge of aggravation, though he remained calm. “Well, if I recall your family did _summon_ me.”  
  
Twi’s eyes flashed, as she glared at Tyki scathingly. “I wasn’t speaking to _you_,” she hissed.  
  
“Twi,” Edgar spoke, as he tried to calm her. “Twi, he needs to see Alma.”  
  
Twi’s lips pressed together, as she looked as though she were fighting a battle within herself. She exhaled through her nose though, before she finally nodded.  
  
However, Twi sent a _scalding_ glare toward Tyki, as soon she walked past him.   
  
Tyki ignored Twi. With no one to further block him, he stepped into the room as he approached the bed where Alma was. He stopped, just as he came to beside the bed, where his eyes were able to look at Alma fully.  
  
Inside, Tyki felt something crack.  
  
Alma was unwell. That much was clear – his skin was pale, and his breaths were strained and shallow. Discomfort lined his expression, despite his lack of consciousness, and a cold sheen of sweat could be seen collecting on his skin, causing his clothing to cling to his body, and his bangs to stick to his forehead.  
  
He looked terrible.  
  
It was a knife into Tyki – it was a knife into Tyki, when he had to see Alma like that. Truthfully, Tyki hadn’t even allowed himself to think of how badly off Alma might have been. He hadn’t wanted to, because he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to handle it.   
  
In his mind, Tyki recalled the last time he had seen Alma in a similar state – back when Alma had broken his promise, and Tyki had found him in the maze. Unconscious, and breaths near nonexistent. Too close to death.  
  
Tyki couldn’t stand it.  
  
Fists clenching, Tyki could feel something flood his veins. Something hot, and scalding – something so overpowering, that Tyki almost couldn’t think straight.  
  
Blinking, Tyki took a breath, as he tried to calm himself. Taking the chair that Twi had originally occupied, he sat down, bringing himself so that he was right beside Alma.  
  
As Tyki did this, his eyes flickered over to the nightstand. On it, he saw a vial of pomegranate seeds.  
  
Tyki recognized them immediately.  
  
_‘Damn it…’_ Tyki thought, as he returned his focus to Alma. _‘Damn it, what did you _do_…?’_  
  
Tyki didn’t understand it. Alma had wanted to go home. He had wanted to see his family – to return to the world of light, where the sun shone so brightly and the sky was so blue. So why? Why would Alma have taken something from the Underworld…?  
  
Knowing he couldn’t very well answer the questions himself, Tyki took his hand and brought it to Alma’s chest. Trying to focus, he attempted to phase his hand to feel Alma’s heart-  
  
The silver band on Tyki’s wrist glowed, preventing him from doing such.  
  
A low, angry curse escaped Tyki’s lips. He had forgotten in that moment that his powers had been bound.  
  
Fists balling, Tyki stood up. “I need to take him back to the Underworld.”  
  
“_No_!” Twi argued. “No, he just came back _home_-“  
  
“Why does he need to go back to the Underworld?” Edgar asked. “Can’t you help him _here_?”  
  
Tyki laughed, the sound bitter and without a trace of amusement. He held up his wrist, silver bracelet glinting. “I can’t exactly help when my powers are _bound_,” he spoke. “But even without them, I can tell you that Alma won’t survive much longer unless he’s taken back to the Underworld. If he doesn’t go back soon, his soul will go there on its own – if it hasn’t already.”  
  
As soon as Tyki said this, both Twi and Edgar visibly tensed. Twi especially looked horrified, almost as though she didn’t even know how to speak. Edgar, though also stunned, tried to stammer out a response though.  
  
“If…if you take him back, he’ll live?” Edgar asked.  
  
Tyki’s eyes flashed, as he met Edgar’s eyes. “He will,” Tyki said. “But he won’t last here much longer…”  
  
Twi’s fist covered her mouth, as she continued to struggle. There was a look of pure anguish in her eyes, as the devastating weight of the situation continued to pull on her.  
  
Edgar turned back to Twi, eyes equally pained. “Twi…?”  
  
Twi nodded her head, eyes bleary. She looked at Tyki. “Take him,” she said, words cracking. “Just…just take him if that means he’ll be okay-“  
  
Tyki’s expression remained severe, as he heard Twi crack once more. It was honestly a shocking contrast to the last time he had seen her: cold, composed, poised. Twi hadn’t struck Tyki as being someone who got emotional, but after seeing her fall to pieces over Alma…  
  
Tyki nodded, before he returned his attention to Alma. After pocketing the vial of seeds, he scooped up Alma’s body, holding him close.   
  
Edgar and Twi watched, as Tyki brought Alma over. Before Tyki could go any farther, Edgar spoke. “Will…will you please make sure he’s alright down there?” Edgar asked, words hoarse. “Just…just don’t let anything else _happen_ to him…”  
  
Tyki’s golden eyes flickered to meet Edgar’s, before they shifted to Twi’s. As Tyki did this, he couldn’t help but notice the desperate, pleading look in their eyes.  
  
Tyki nodded, as the answer came smoothly.   
  
“Don’t worry,” Tyki said. “I promise you that I’ll take care of him."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Road hummed, as she took a colored pencil. She was seated at a table, with several sheets of paper sprawled out before her. Some were blank, others were filled with scribbles. The one directly in front of her was dark though: an abyss of gray and black, with only a few flecks of white to be seen.  
  
Road paused, as she hovered her current pencil over the white flecks: a deep, blood red one, that almost resembled garnets. Taking the pencil, she began to fill in the white, her humming once more continuing.  
  
The door leading outside of the room opened, and Sheril stepped in. His eyes landed on Road immediately. “Road,” he spoke. “Do you know where Tyki is? No one can seem to find him.”  
  
Road looked up, eyes gleaming. he smiled. “Oh, he went somewhere,” she said airily. “But I suspect he’ll be back soon.”  
  
Sheril frowned, eyes disapproving. Before he could press further, Road giggled.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Road said, as she tilted her head to the side. “I think he’ll be coming back with Alma.”  
  
Hearing this, Sheril was completely perplexed. “The Chang was sent back,” Sheril stated. “So why…”  
  
Road looked up, her eyes meeting Sheril’s. In the darkness, they sparkled like amber. “Oh,” she said, voice light and silvery. “I gave him something before he left – and I think he’ll be coming back to stay for a little while longer.”  
  
As soon as Road said this, something in Sheril clicked. Realization brimming in his eyes, he smiled, expression icy and cold.  
  
“I see,” he said. “I’ll have to let Lord Millennium know – I’m sure he’ll be pleased.”  
  
Road grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One full chapter left (and an epilogue)! ;__; It feels weird being this close to the end, especially given how long I’ve worked on this story and how stupidly intricate the plot has become. (I should have known though. My mind would go off. XD) But there’s still a lot of loose ends to be wrapped here, so those will be addressed by the end of this story in particular. 
> 
> This chapter felt a little strange to write. I think it’s because all of my multi chapter fics seem to have some sort of battle/blowout in them, and in this case, that doesn’t happen. It still was emotionally draining to write though, especially with Alma pulling the seed stunt (which, writing it felt like writing an overdose scene? Which is probably why these last two chapters felt weird). Granted, it wasn’t intentional - of course Road neglected to tell Alma about any negative side effects to taking those seeds when he was outside of the Underworld. I doubt that’s surprising to anyone. XD
> 
> Tyki, I really enjoyed writing though. Probably because I’m feeling the satisfaction of him being whipped by his own feelings. He does try to shut it out, but luckily Allen comes in and pokes some sense into him. (Though...Tyki was never going to be able to walk away after hearing about Alma. If he did, it would have haunted him.)
> 
> I had wanted to include a moment where Tyki sort of came in, and had this strained interaction with Alma’s family out of necessity. There’s a lot of conflicting emotions to make sense of, but ultimately, they both want to do what’s best for Alma in this situation - which, is a hard pill to swallow when you’re enemies. (It’s even harder for Twi and Edgar, because essentially after all they’ve done to protect Alma...has been for nothing. Which is devastating.)
> 
> I hope this was a good chapter to read, and aaaa, we’re almost to the end! ;__; Feedback is very much welcomed as always. <3


	29. A Decision Made

_It was cold, and Alma was tired.   
  
__He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious for. He didn’t know how long he had been there, on the ground with his eyes closed, body deprived of any warmth of comfort. But it felt as though it had been for a long time. Even if Alma couldn’t be certain of how much time had passed, it felt that way.  
  
A shiver rippled throughout him, and slowly, he opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure what caused him to open them; he was still so tired, and just wanted to sleep.  
  
However, something nudged at Alma’s insides. He blinked,, his vision hazing into focus before he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Looking around, Alma once again noticed that he was on some kind of stone path, with hedges all around him, as a fog loomed close to the ground.  
  
Again, something seemed familiar, but Alma couldn’t remember what. In fact, he couldn’t remember anything.  
  
Alma brought a hand to his head, expression lost. _‘I…can’t remember…’ _he realized.  
  
Somewhat wobbly, he stood. He felt lightheaded and dazed, with no understanding of where he was or how he had gotten there. _‘I can’t…’_  
  
Slowly, Alma started to walk.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
When Tyki brought Alma back to the Underworld, he didn’t wake up.  
  
Alma was just still: lying in bed, unconscious and unresponsive. His breaths were still somewhat strained, and his body refused to warm. His skin glistened with an icy sweat, and his face twisted in discomfort, as periodic shudders rippled throughout his body.  
  
For Tyki, the sight was excruciating.  
  
Carefully, Tyki placed his hand over Alma’s chest, as he sat on the bed beside him. His hand lingered for a second before Tyki focused, his hand sinking down as his hand phased through the flesh.  
  
Tyki frowned. As his hand remained inside Alma, he felt for his heartbeat – which was sparse, and erratic.   
  
“Aw…he hasn’t woken up yet?”  
  
Tyki removed his hand from Alma. He turned his face, eyes cold, as he landed on the person who had spoken.  
  
Road.  
  
Road’s eyes glinted, as she noticed Tyki’s oddly chilling stare. Sweetly, she smiled, as she leaned back against the wall. “You know he’ll be fine – now that he’s here,” Road said. “You shouldn’t look so upset.”  
  
Tyki’s expression remained stony, as he turned away. “Why did you give them to him?” he asked, voice low. “Didn’t think you’d want him back with how _attached_ you thought I was…”  
  
Road sighed. She pushed herself off of the wall as she walked over to where Tyki was, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “Tyki,” she whined. “Don’t tell me you’re _mad_ at me…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, and Road exhaled once more. She glanced over his shoulder, her gaze peering at Alma’s unconscious form. “As silly as you can be, I hate seeing you sad…and you were sad without him,” she explained. “Giving him a way to come back would have fixed that – and it would have helped us in the long run by having him here. It’s a win-win.”  
  
“You shouldn’t have done that to him,” Tyki said. “He didn’t want to be here…”  
  
Road released her grip on Tyki, as she raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because I didn’t _make_ Alma take them – he took them because he wanted to. No one forced him to do anything. You can even ask him when he wakes up.”  
  
Tyki released a breath, tense and on edge. “His soul isn’t in his body now,” he spoke quietly. “He won’t wake up until it comes back.”  
  
Road hummed. “Must have rushed here as soon as he was bound to the Underworld,” she observed. “That pull gets so strong sometimes…I wonder where it could have ended up.”  
  
Before anything else could be said, Road turned, as she pulled the door open. “Let me know if you find it,” she said. “I’m sure Lord Millennium will be looking forward to welcoming Alma back whenever he wakes up.”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, as he heard Road leave. Instead, his eyes remained on Alma: Alma who was still unconscious, and who would not awaken.  
  
A frown remained on Tyki’s face. Technically, Alma’s soul should have returned as soon as Tyki brought his body to the Underworld. However, such hadn’t happened; it was almost as though Alma’s soul had become stuck somewhere, lost and with no idea as to where to go-  
  
Tyki stilled. _‘It’s…’_  
  
Standing up, Tyki waved his hand. There was a wisp of smoke as several teases appeared.   
  
“Watch him – don’t let anyone inside until I come back,” Tyki ordered.  
  
Several teases remained beside Alma, while a few followed Tyki as he phased through the door. Once outside, the teases placed themselves over the knob of the door – just before they dissolved into a crystalized covering, locking the door so no one could enter.  
  
Tyki glanced back one final time, making sure the door was secure. Once he did so, he turned to leave.  
  
Somehow, he had a feeling he knew where Alma’s soul had ended up.  
  
Tyki was quick as he walked; he avoided going through the larger corridors, opting for smaller halls and hidden passages. He didn’t want to risk being found by anyone; he didn’t want to take that chance. Not when he had to hurry.  
_  
“Will…will you please make sure he’s alright down there?”  
  
“Just…just don’t let anything else_ happen_ to him…”_  
  
Tyky’s jaw tightened. He still had not been able to get the exchange he had had with Alma’s father out of his head, the memory annoyingly _vivid_ in his mind. The plea Edgar had made had been so desperately pitiful; in any other instance, Tyki would have sneered at it. He would have let the Changs suffer, and he would have turned his back on them without a second thought.  
  
Yet, here Tyki was. Having made a promise to do what he could to watch over Alma. To make sure Alma would be okay.  
  
Tyki didn’t know when he had become so weak, but it frustrated him.  
  
There wasn’t much more time for Tyki to focus on his own frustrations, as he soon exited the castle. He had come out one of the side entrances, though he quickly rounded around to the front of the castle, the garden coming into view. As always, the flowers were in bloom; however, they were not too bright, nor as fragrant as when Alma had tended to them. It was a small observation, but one that trickled into Tyki’s thoughts regardless.  
  
Tyki didn’t allow himself to linger on such details for long though – not when he finally arrived at his destination.  
  
The entrance to the maze was dark, as always. Tyki didn’t care though, his gaze unblinking as he entered into the maze. He walked along the stone path, twisting and turning through the hedges as his golden eyes scanned every corner and every turn. He listened for any sound, and watched for any movement; however, the maze was dark and soundless. Empty.  
  
Tyki wasn’t sure how long he was in there for. He was thorough in his journey, taking every route he knew as he navigated his way through the hedge maze. It was almost aggravating; Tyki knew the maze well, and yet he hadn’t been able to find anything. He was just wandering around, aimlessly searching without anything to show for.  
  
Despite this, he continued.  
  
Eventually, Tyki made it to the maze’s center: just where it broke off into a courtyard. The stone path cut through it as several pomegranate trees remained on each side, with each tree surrounded by a small ring of silvery water. It was a quiet, almost peaceful looking area. But, the shadows loomed, and the air was cold. Frosty, even.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Tyki saw something move.  
  
Growing alert, Tyki’s eyes flashed, his attention landing near one of the pomegranate trees. It was a small shift, but jarring against the stillness of his surroundings. Far too much to ignore.  
  
Gaze pensive, Tyki took a few steps near the tree-  
  
He stopped, as soon as the source of the movement came into view.  
  
They were just behind the tree, somewhat hidden away as though they were too afraid to come out. On the ground, a figure was seated on their knees, hands wrapped around their body as though they were attempting to keep themselves warm, a slight shudder shaking them every few seconds.  
  
Tyki recognized Alma immediately.  
  
It wasn’t Alma though – not entirely, at least. His body was transparent: a ghostly echo of his essence, and the manifestation of his soul.   
  
Tyki took a small breath. _‘So this is where you came…’_  
  
Walking over, Tyki stopped just before Alma. He crouched down, his golden eyes seeking to meet Alma’s. In doing this, Tyki noticed Alma didn’t react; it was as though Alma couldn’t see Tyki, expression lost and gaze distant.   
  
Tyki stared. “You can’t see me, huh?” he said, more so to himself than Alma.  
  
Again, Alma made no indication of having heard Tyki. His expression only remained bewildered, as he blinked his large, blue eyes. Confusion pooling in his gaze, Alma looked around, without uttering a noise.  
  
Despite the circumstances, the corner of Tyki’s mouth twitched upward. “You know someone is around though…”   
  
Alma still said nothing, before he shivered. A wave of discomfort flashed across his features, as he wrapped his arms around his body more tightly.  
  
Taking his hand, Tyki brought it to the side of Alma’s face. Despite Alma’s translucence appearance, he could just make out the warmth of Alma’s essence, his hand resting on that spot. In doing this, Tyki saw Alma still, a look of surprise appearing in his eyes.  
  
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Tyki said, words quiet. “Not like this.”  
  
Alma remained quiet, as he stared at Tyki blankly. There was a glazed look in his eyes, and slowly he brought his hand up – just as he placed it over Tyki’s. As he did this, several tears fell down his cheeks.  
  
Tyki smiled. “Come on, Flower Boy,” he urged softly. “Let’s take you back.”  
  
Alma continued to look forward, as he kept his hand over Tyki. As he did this, his body began to fade, his translucent appearance dissolving into small, fragments of light. Eventually, only a small, tiny orb of light was left hovering in the air.  
  
Taking the orb, Tyki stood, keeping it carefully protected as he left the maze.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Lost. He was lost, and he didn’t know where he was…  
  
Someone. There was someone close. Someone nearby….  
  
A hand. He felt a hand on his cheek. Warm. Comforting. Safe…  
  
Safe…  
  
_Soft, silken sheets were the first thing Alma felt when he began to wake up. Sheets, which were warm and comforting against his skin.  
  
It was a soothing feeling. The comfort was strangely immense, so much that Alma didn’t even want to open his eyes at first. He could practically feel himself sink deeper into the sheets, the pillows soft and plushy beneath his head. A vaguely familiar sensation tickled Alma’s mind; however, he was too tired to think coherently, and could only feel himself threaten to drift back into slumber.  
  
_‘It feels so nice…’_ Alma thought, eyes still closed.   
  
He shifted a bit, as his face turned to the side. Alma inhaled, the scent of the sheets light and crisp, almost as though they had been freshly cleaned. Again, it was a relaxing sensation, and Alma felt his consciousness threaten to fade.  
  
Gently, someone’s fingers brushed against Alma’s bangs.  
  
Alma moved his face slightly, the touch causing him to awaken a bit more. His brow furrowed, his awareness gradually returning – so much, that Alma wasn’t sure if he would be able to fall back asleep. Somewhat slowly, his eyes opened, blinking a few times as his vision started to blur into focus.  
  
Soft cream sheets. A wine red comforter. A dark, ebony canopy…  
  
Gradually, Alma began to realize he was in his room – his room that he had had when in the Underworld.  
  
Alma looked a bit more, as confusion filled him. _‘I’m…’_  
  
His thoughts drew to a halt, as he again felt someone’s fingers brush against his cheek. Bewildered, Alma turned, as he looked over near the edge of the bed.  
  
When Alma looked, he saw Tyki.  
  
Alma stared. He was somewhat dazed from having just awoken, and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he was still half-asleep. After all, hadn’t Alma been taken back to the above world, with hardly any hope of ever seeing Tyki again? Could Tyki really have been there, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at Alma with those unforgettable golden irises?  
  
A dream. Alma couldn’t help but feel that he must have been _dreaming_…  
  
Tyki looked at Alma, his lips tugging into a small smirk as he noticed Alma’s perplexed expression. “I was wondering when you’d wake up,” Tyki said. “You’ve been out for a while now…”  
  
Alma blinked, the voice melting into his ears like butter. “T…Tyki?” Alma asked, words ridden with sleep and confusion. “I…what happened? I…I thought I was back…”  
  
Tyki’s smirk faded, as something flickered in his eyes. Gently, he took his hand, as he ran it across Alma’s forehead.   
  
“Your memory is going to be kind of foggy at first,” Tyki said, words quiet. “Taking food from the Underworld when you’re _not_ in the Underworld will do that to you…”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as Tyki’s words sank in. There was a bit of a delayed response, as Alma was slow to process them. However, the weight of Tyki’s words soon seeped into Alma, and with a slight shock he suddenly recalled what had happened.  
  
His parents. Learning he was marked. The pomegranate seeds.  
  
Slowly, it began to dawn on Alma just what he had done. He had been so distraught, and so desperate – Alma had taken the pomegranate seeds. He had taken a handful, desperate for some kind of escape. For some way to see Tyki, and to avoid becoming some marked prisoner of the Order.  
  
In the midst of this all, Alma realized that he had fled from his very own family.  
  
Shakily, Alma exhaled. He had taken the seeds. He had bound himself to the _Underworld_-  
  
Tyki watched Alma, as he carefully observed each shift in Alma’s expression. A small, pensive frown remained on his face, ahis gaze lingering on Alma intensely.  
  
“Why did you do it?” Tyki asked quietly. “You had the sun back. Your family…”  
  
Alma’s gaze shifted, his head still lying back on the pillow. His head felt so heavy that Alma hadn’t even tried to sit up yet; he could only stare at Tyki helplessly as he tried to respond.  
  
“They…they lied to me,” he finally managed, his voice weak. “My…my family _lied_ to me…”  
  
As the words fell out, Alma found himself beginning to recall what had happened with even more clarity. That last interaction with his parents. The realization that they had repressed his memories. The revelation that for all of Alma’s life, they had intentionally kept him hidden away, their fear of the Order learning the truth too astounding for them to ignore. Their fear of what would have happened had anyone found out that Alma was _marked_.  
  
Just as before, the realization was too devastating for Alma to bear. So much that he fell apart all over again.  
  
“They lied to me, and…and I couldn’t _stay there_,” Alma tried to continue, as his voice cracked. “I-I had to leave, and I wanted to come back. I-I wanted to see you again-“  
  
He cut off, as a shallow breath escaped him, tears welling in his eyes as they began to fall. But Alma still tried to speak, his words trembling and filled with pain. “Y-You never lied to me, and I just…I-I don’t want to be _lied to _anymore…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything, with a somewhat stunned look in his eyes. He watched as Alma continued to fall to pieces, completely distraught over whatever it was that had happened during his time in the above world. Truthfully, Tyki didn’t even know what it was that Alma’s family had lied to him about – they hadn’t revealed that to him when he spoke to them.  
  
Alma’s shaky, uneven breaths ripped Tyki from his thoughts. Gently, he scooped Alma up into a sitting position. Tyki pulled him close, allowing for Alma to clasp onto his shoulders as he buried his face into the crook of Tyki’s neck, a few more sobs escaping him. Tyki didn’t try to stop Alma though, as he kept his arms wrapped around him, his hands gingerly running down Alma’s back.  
  
“Come on,” Tyki eased quietly. “You’re here now…”  
  
Alma continued to cry, despite Tyki’s words. “I…I can’t be lied to anymore,” he repeated, words cracked with sorrow. “Please, _please_ don’t lie to me either…”  
  
Tyki frowned, his hold on Alma never once wavering. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he promised. “I’m not going to do that…”  
  
Tyki’s words trailed off, as Alma’s hands clutched at Tyki’s shirt, his face pressed into Tyki’s shoulder. His cries had yet to cease, though his sobs weakened, softening until the sounds were small and mere sniffles.  
  
Gingerly, Tyki ran his hand through Alma’s hair, the motion soothing. His contemplative expression never diminished, as a string of questions simmered in his mind – with one burning above all the rest.   
  
“Hey,” Tyki spoke, tone more serious. “I need to know…how many you took. How many seeds?”  
  
Alma stiffened in Tyki’s grasp. He had finally stopped crying, but his face was wet, eyes red and puffy. Not daring to make eye contact, Alma kept his face lowered and close to Tyki’s shoulder.  
  
“I…I’m not sure,” Alma said, as he tried to remember. “Just a few…”  
  
“How _many_?” Tyki pressed.  
  
Alma bit his lip. He was straining to recall how many had it been – had he even been paying attention? “I don’t know,” he said, before he tried to attempt an estimate. “Maybe…six? I…I just poured some into my hand…”  
  
Tyki exhaled, as he rested his hand on the back of Alma’s head, eyes distant as he took in the response. _‘Six…’_  
  
Finally, Alma raised his face from Tyki’s shoulder. He still kept his gaze averted though, eyes uneasy as he swallowed. “What…what happens now that I’ve taken them…?” he asked, as the weight of his actions began to crash upon him.  
  
Tyki didn’t answer at first, his silence stretching on. A frown still on his face, he answered quietly. “Not sure. You bound yourself here when you took those seeds…your soul is tied to here, and your body won’t last in the above realm without it,” he explained. “Knowing how your family is, I’m sure they’ll try to find a way to get you back…”  
  
Alma kept his gaze downcast, as his thoughts flickered to his family. His mother. His father. For his whole life, they had lied to him, with the realization of such being too unbearable for Alma to process. However, there was a part of Alma that couldn’t help but feel…_guilty_. They were his family, and he loved them, but now he didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust them, and…and he had sent himself back into the darkness, and away from the light.   
  
Alma had abandoned his family, and now he realized that he might never see them again. That he might have severed the connection permanently. _‘Mother and Father…’_  
  
Remorse overtaking Alma, he once more could feel his eyes sting, as regret swarmed within his chest. “I didn’t mean to leave them forever…” Alma admitted, voice laced with pain. “I just…I just wanted a _choice_…”  
  
It was true. Looking back, Alma had been devastated, but it was not as though he had it in him to _hate_ his parents. He was hurt and angry, but he…he didn’t hate them. He didn’t want to go so far that he would never see them again. Maybe, he wanted to leave for a bit – to go away and hide, where he could finally make his own decisions, and his own choices…  
  
Now, none of that mattered. Alma had made his choice, and it had been a potentially damning one.  
  
Again, Alma could feel his hands clinging to Tyki’s shirt, as he looked down. Vision blurring, his voice trembled. “I just…” he began to utter, voice small. “I just didn’t want to be a prisoner anymore…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He could feel Alma’s body tremble, as his grief took its hold, his form strangely small and fragile in Tyki’s grasp. Once more, Tyki wrapped his arms around Alma, and pulled the younger deity close.  
  
“I understand,” Tyki said quietly, as he continued to hold Alma. _‘I understand…’_  
  
They both fell into silence, with neither speaking afterwards.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“So, he came back, did he?”  
  
Sheril smiled, eyes sharp and bright as they gleamed in the darkness of the study. Candles flickered, casting inky shadows all along the walls, with curtains draped over the windows, the fabric thick and velvety.  
  
“It seems he did,” Sheril said, as he sat back in the chair across from the desk that the Earl was seated at. “The boy took several of the pomegranate seeds Road gave him – his soul was bound quickly, but it Tyki found it.”  
  
The Earl leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he clasped his hands together. “What a surprise – I wasn’t sure if the little moonflower would ever want to return here. He seemed so desperate to leave during his stay.”  
  
“That’s changed now,” Sheril said. “Apparently, he finally learned the truth about being marked – it seems it was quite the devastating revelation for him.”  
  
Chuckling, the Earl smiled, a merciless glint in his eyes. “A devastating revelation for him, but quite a win for us. Having him bound here will certainly do us some good – especially with him having taken the seeds willingly,” the Earl said, gaze dark. “I can imagine his family will once again be desperate to get him back.”  
  
Sheril grinned coldly. “Naturally. Regardless of whether the boy did it of his own will, they’ll want him back – and the Order will bound to be involved, once they know what has happened.”  
  
The Earl hummed, expression thoughtful. “They will…”  
  
Sheril noticed the Earl’s expression, and his gaze turned inquisitive. “Shall we work towards negotiating with the barrier?” he questioned.  
  
The Earl’s eyes flickered back to Sheril, and he smiled. “Perhaps. But I think we should…approach this from a different angle,” the Earl said. “Having the boy bound here will work to our advantage, but only if we make use of this opportunity properly.”  
  
Sheril frowned. He wasn’t certain as to what angle the Earl was referring to, though he imagined the Earl would explain soon enough. However, Sheril couldn’t help but feel a nudge of irritation – despite his loyalty to the Millennium Earl, Sheril didn’t like being kept in the dark.  
  
Straightening his posture, the Earl spoke. “The Order will undoubtedly send word soon about this, and request your presence,” he said. “And when they do…take Tyki with you.”  
  
Blinking, Sheril’s frown deepened. “Why?” he asked, gaze narrowing.  
  
“Tyki was the one the Changs asked for when the moonflower was unwell. Tyki also seems to have gotten rather close with the boy. So perhaps…it would be beneficial to have him there,” the Earl explained, before he grinned. “And a closeness between a Chang and a Noah…could be the bridge we’ve been waiting for.”  
  
As the Earl spoke these words, something registered in Sheril’s mind. Suddenly realizing where the Earl was taking this, a slow, icy smile stretched across Sheril’s lips, his eyes pooling with intrigue.  
  
“I see,” Sheril said, smile remaining.  
  
For once, it seemed that Tyki’s attachment to useless things wouldn’t be so useless after all.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The next few days were agonizing for Twi.  
  
She had no other way to describe it. Every second Twi thought about Alma, her heart leaden with grief and worry. Every second Twi thought about how Alma had been taken back to the Underworld, carried off in the arms of some_Noah_ – back into the darkness, where no one could reach him.  
  
Every second, Twi thought about how she had failed Alma – and about how she had failed him as a mother.  
  
The Order was angry. They had expected the Changs to deliver Alma to the Acropolis once summoned, so that they could observe Alma and ensure that the dark matter in his blood wouldn’t destabilize him. However, Twi and Edgar had been unable to do so. Alma was gone, his soul bound to the Underworld, and there was no way that the Changs could recover him. Naturally, the Order had been displeased – especially considering the fact that the Changs had hidden the truth about Alma for over eleven years.  
  
Twi didn’t care though. She _couldn’t_ care. Not anymore. Not when she may have lost her youngest child forever.  
  
The meeting hall in the citadel was full, but it was quiet. The coiffured ceiling stretched into a high dome above that caused the space to feel vast, even with the many members of the Order present. People scattered themselves, some off in smaller groups as they exchanged quiet whispers, while others had gone on to take their seats at the meeting table.  
  
Twi hadn’t taken a seat yet. She was too anxious, and too uneasy. It didn’t even matter how much Twi attempted to repress it, in an effort to appear composed; she was practically overflowing with nerves, her insides twisted and gnarled as she waited for the meeting to begin.  
  
From behind, Twi heard someone approaching. However, she didn’t look back until she felt a hand placed onto her shoulder, drawing her attention.  
  
Edgar looked at Twi. He hadn’t moved his hand, and there was a gentle, comforting look in his eyes. “It won’t be much longer now,” he said quietly. “The Noah agreed to meet with us…nothing is set in stone yet.”  
  
Twi frowned, as she looked away. Even with Edgar’s attempt to find some silver lining, Twi could hear the strain in his voice. She could hear that hint of unease, and discomfort – just enough to signify that Edgar was just as worried as Twi, if not more.  
  
Releasing a small breath, Twi looked up. Across the room she could see Bak. He appeared to be in the midst of a conversation with Renee, though his eyes soon wandered over to where Twi and Edgar were – and by chance, they made eye contact.  
  
There was a flash of something painful in Bak’s gaze, before he looked away.  
  
Twi sighed. “Bak’s still upset…”  
  
Edgar exhaled. “He’s going to be,” he stated. “It’s…going to take time.”  
  
Again, there was a strenuous way to how Edgar spoke. Again, Twi found the comfort lacking.  
  
There was not much time for conversation after the exchange, as the main doors to the meeting hall opened. Taking this as a sign that the meeting was getting ready to start, Twi and Edgar found their seats beside Zuu. None of them said anything as Bak also took his seat on the opposite side of his grandfather, with everyone’s attention all gravitating toward the doors. CROWs could be seen entering into the hall, faces masked and red hoods up. There was a large group of them, all flocking in-  
  
Twi held her breath. Just behind the first group of CROWs, she could see the Noah.  
  
There were only two of them. As anticipated, Sheril was one. He walked in with a strong air about him, his posture straight and his gaze sharped. As always, he looked as polished as a knife: cutting, and with a promise of danger.   
  
But after Sheril, Tyki walked in.  
  
Twi tensed. The last time she had seen Tyki, he had been carrying Alma back to the Underworld, having promised to take care of Alma and to make sure that he was alright. Immediately, she felt an impulsive rush of recklessness – one that was almost strong enough to cause her to stand, and demand that Tyki inform her of how Alma was.  
  
However, Twi shut this urge down, and forced herself to keep still.  
  
Tyki and Sheril took their seats – once more across from the Changs, in the same position they had been seated in two months ago. On each side, there was a space in-between, with the CROWs remaining close to keep an attentive eye on the Noah.  
  
As Twi looked, she caught Tyki glancing in her direction.   
  
Twi broke eye contact, as her attention briefly flickered around the table. Nearby, Lvellier was seated, expression stony as he looked on at the Noah. His dark eyes were piercing as he glanced between Sheril and Tyki, and with the silence looming in the room, he spoke.  
  
“I take it we all know why we’re here today,” Lvellier stated, displeasure evident in his voice. His eyes briefly flickered to the Changs, before he continued. “For almost two months, a Chang was in the Underworld. And now, he seems to have been bound there permanently.”  
  
Lvellier turned, as he looked over at Sheril in particular. “Considering what we determined about the blood contract, you can imagine it’s easy for us to believe that this was a string _you_ pulled.”  
  
Sheril smiled, expression coy. “Oh, I’m afraid it wasn’t,” he said, words silk smooth. “The boy took food from the Underworld of his own free will. And he took it in the _above realm_. Unless you’ve forgotten, we Noah have been trapped, and can’t exactly manipulate such things from below.”  
  
Zuu looked up, face severe. “He took _seeds_ – only a few at that,” Zuu clarified. “We don’t even know if he realized what they were-“  
  
“You don’t give him that much credit,” Tyki finally spoke. His words, although languid, held an odd sharpness to them – something that became even more prominent as his gaze skimmed over the Changs. “Flower Boy knew what those seeds were.”  
  
“He was _upset,_” Twi interjected, unable to stand for such words. “Alma wasn’t thinking – he didn’t realize what he was _doing_!”  
  
“Regardless of what he was thinking, it doesn’t change the fact that his soul was bound to the Underworld,” Sheril stated. “That can’t be undone – this isn’t the same as a blood contract.”  
  
Twi gritted her teeth, as Sheril’s words seeped into her ears. Beneath the table, her fists clenched.  
  
Lvellier glared at Sheril. “This may not be the same as a blood contract, but this isn’t an ordinary situation by any means,” he snapped, tone impatient and irritable. “The boy is marked – he has been for some time, and he needs to be observed here at the Acropolis. Having both innocence and dark matter in his blood will destabilize him overtime, and keeping him the Underworld will likely expedite that process.”  
  
As Lvellier said this, Tyki’s eyes flashed. There was a cool, frosty look in his eyes, though he didn’t say anything, lips pressed into a thin, tight line.  
  
“You only say that because you don’t understand how dark matter works,” Sheril clipped icily. “If you did, you’d be grateful the boy ended up in the Underworld. By staying with us, he could learn how to control any traces of dark matter – you wouldn’t have to worry about him being a _threat_.”  
  
Looking over, Bak’s eyes landed on Sheril. There was a surprisingly cutting look in his eyes, as he spoke next. “The only threat being caused now is the fact that Alma is _trapped _there-“  
  
“_Enough_,” Lvellier ordered, his volume increasing slightly. He shot a look of disapproval in Bak’s direction, before returning his focus to Sheril. “The boy cannot remain in the Underworld – not without having any sort of supervision from us. You may understand how dark matter works, but you hardly understand _innocence_.”  
  
Sheril laughed, the sound leaden with amusement. “Are you sure? I’d remind you that we’ve been around_ far_ longer than you have.”  
  
Edgar looked up, his eyes shifting between the two Noah. For the first time during the meeting, he found himself speaking. “Please – as the Noah you’re the ones who maintain the laws of the Underworld. Surely there must be something that can be done to allow Alma back?” he pleaded, words strained. “He only took a few seeds – he doesn’t deserve to be trapped there _eternally_.”  
  
As Edgar spoke, Tyki’s attention shifted to him, something fracturing in his eyes. Quietly, his gaze shifted to Sheril as his gaze hardened.  
  
If Sheril noticed, he didn’t indicate it. Instead, he kept his attention on the rest of the Order members, his focus lingering heavily on the Changs. “That’s true. It seems he only took six seeds. Quite a meager amount really…”  
  
None of the Changs said anything, as they all remained tense. Twi and Edgar in particular appeared anxious, with both nearly hold their breaths.  
  
Beneath the table, Twi felt Edgar take her hand.   
  
When no one said anything, Sheril continued. “In this case, we are willing to make a compromise,” he spoke. “We can allow the boy to return to the above world by placing a mark on him so that his soul won’t try to return to the Underworld. It’ll be bound back to his own body.”  
  
Immediately, Twi felt something clasp at her heart – something akin to hope, strong, yet fearful. Still holding Edgar’s hand beneath the table, she squeezed it.  
  
Eyes sharp, Sheril’s gaze flashed. “However,” he began to say, before any hope could fester. “This would be temporary. For each seed taken, the boy will remain a month in the Underworld. The rest of the year, he can return here.”  
  
A somewhat stunned silence filled the meeting hall. No one said anything at first, as uneasy glances were exchanged, and a few whispers uttered.  
  
Edgar looked back at Sheril, still somewhat shocked. “But…but that would be _six months_ he would be in the Underworld,” he realized. “That’s half of the _year_-“  
  
Sheril leaned back in his chair. “Well, the other alternative is that he remains in the Underworld permanently,” he reiterated coolly. “Considering the circumstances, I thought our compromise was a generous one. We certainly don’t _have_ to allow it.”  
  
Edgar exhaled, as he glanced back at Twi. He appeared for a loss as to how to respond, and truthfully, Twi couldn’t say she was any better off. The thought of Alma spending any time in the Underworld was so appalling, and the fact that he would have to remain there for half of the _year_…  
  
Zuu frowned, his gaze enver once leaving Sheril. Once more, he spoke up. “It is a _gracious_ offer…which makes me question why you would do it,” he said warily. “Do you expect something in return?”  
  
Sheril smiled, his next words surprising. “No,” he said. “No, I just understand how…_important_ being with one’s family can be.”  
  
Twi’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe Sheril – she didn’t believe him for a second. After all the Noah had done, why would they offer such a compromise? Twi almost said such aloud as well – but was stopped, as Lvellier spoke up.  
  
“If the boy can be returned for six months of the year, then six months it will be,” he stated. “I find it difficult to imagine the Changs would refuse that arrangement and risk never seeing the boy again.”  
  
Twi turned toward Lvellier, eyes cold. There was a scalding look in her eyes; she didn’t take well to being spoken for, but the fire in her quelled, as she caught sight of Zuu looking at her warningly.  
  
“Think of Alma,” Zuu whispered. “Think of _him_…”  
  
Twi’s shoulders tensed, and she looked at Edgar. Edgar also appeared torn on the matter, a defeated look in his eyes. Glancing back at Twi, he nodded.  
  
Twi returned her focus to the Noah. “Very well,” she said, throat drying as the words left her lips. “Six…six months then.”  
  
Sheril’s grin broadened. “Excellent,” he said, thoroughly pleased by the agreement. “The boy will remain the first six months, and will be returned after-“  
  
“_Four _months,” Bak interjected. “My brother was already there for nearly two months – so he should be able to return after four months.”  
  
Sheril paused. He looked somewhat annoyed by the interruption, but for whatever reason, wasn’t so aggravated that he was willing to waste energy arguing. “Very well,” he agreed, as he waved his hand dismissively. “We will return him in four months, just as the spring equinox approaches.”  
  
Lvellier nodded. “It’s settled then,” he said before he glanced back at the Changs. “As for when the boy is returned here…we shall figure that arrangement out ourselves.”  
  
To this, none of the Changs said anything, the weight of Lvellier’s words looming above them.  
  
The meeting adjourned shortly after. Quickly, attendees began to dismiss themselves, with the CROWs already beginning to escort the Noah from the meeting hall.  
  
Swiftly, Twi stood. She didn’t wait for anyone before she hurried toward the exit, just as Tyki was following Sheril and several CROWs outside.  
  
“Wait,” Twi spoke.  
  
Tyki stopped. He turned around, causing a few CROWs to cease as well. Tyki didn’t pay them any mind, as his attention lingered on Twi.  
  
Twi met Tyki’s gaze directly. “Alma,” she began to say, words careworn. “How…how is Alma?”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything at first. He only stared back at Twi, expression aloof and oddly distant.   
  
Edgar caught up to Twi. He stopped just behind her, eyes ridden with concern as he glanced at Tyki also – likely with the same question in mind.  
  
Gaze flickering between them, Tyki spoke. “Alma’s fine,” he said. “He woke up after being returned to the Underworld – his soul ended up getting separated from his body, but it’s back now.”  
  
Twi breathed a sigh of relief, as did Edgar.   
  
“Thank god…” Edgar murmured.  
  
Tyki’s expression didn’t soften. “If you need to send any messages, give them to Walker,” he stated. “I’ll make sure they get to Flower Boy.”  
  
Edgar nodded. Before anything else could be said, he looked at Tyki questioningly.  
  
“Did…Alma say why he took them?” Edgar asked, voice soft.   
  
Twi glanced up. She had wondered the same thing, though a part of her had been too fearful to ask. A part of her had been too fearful to know the truth. _‘Why…’_  
  
Tyki remained quiet. He remained quiet for a moment, almost as though he didn’t plan on answering. But his lips soon moved, and the words spilled out: strangely smooth, and strangely bitter.  
  
“He didn’t want to be a prisoner anymore,” Tyki finally answered.  
  
Neither Twi nor Edgar spoke, both taken aback by the response.   
  
Tyki didn’t bother to wait for them to collect themselves. Without uttering a single word, he turned on his heel and left with the CROWs.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was anxious all day.  
  
He couldn’t help it. All day he had been consumed by thoughts of the meeting that would be taking place at the Acropolis – the meeting that would involve _both_ his family and the Noah. The meeting that would determine Alma’s fate, and Alma’s _future._  
  
It would determine the rest of Alma’s life, and he wouldn’t even be able to get a say in the decision made.  
  
Alma bit his lip, frustration brimming inside. He paced around his room, the candles flickering in the darkness. The windows were open, the curtains pulled back as the inky, glittering cavern sky of the Underworld remained visible. By the windows, a series of vines and blossoms had already sprouted, thickly covering the windowsill.  
  
Wrapping his arms around his body, Alma walked over to the window and sat on the divan, glancing outside. He had been watching for any sign of Tyki, who had gone with Sheril to the meeting – however, Alma hadn’t seen them return yet.  
  
Fluttering over to Alma, two teases hovered close, with one landing on Alma’s shoulder.  
  
Turning, Alma looked at the teases. He then looked back at the window, expression scrunched with dismay. “It’s not fair,” he said. “I’m…I’m not even getting a _say_ in what happens and it’s my _life_…”  
  
The teases didn’t respond, though the one remained on Alma’s shoulder. As for the other, it fluttered closely, just as its wing brushed against Alma’s cheek.  
  
Alma glanced back, face still crestfallen. His shoulders slumped as he exhaled. “I feel like you’re the only ones who listen…” Alma murmured, before he glanced back at the window. “You and Tyki…but I don’t even know what he’ll be able to do when he’s there…”  
  
As Alma said this, his words trailed off, his eyes once more returning to the window. Tyki had left with Sheril hours ago, with Allen having come to collect them on behalf of the Order. Honestly, Alma had been a bit surprised that Tyki was being asked to go – though, he wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Tyki had been the one to bring Alma back to the Underworld. That bit of information had certainly taken some time to settle in; Alma hadn’t realized that his own family had summoned Tyki for aid. But they had.  
  
Alma couldn’t even begin to imagine how that interaction must have gone.  
  
Alma leaned over, his head pressing against the window frame. He realized that his parents must have been truly desperate to have summoned a Noah to their own home. Before, such a thing would have been seen as horrific and unthinkable. Alma’s family had only ever had terrible, scathing words to describe the Noah, and yet they had called one when they had found Alma’s body, unconscious and refusing to awaken.  
  
Thinking this, Alma felt his heart twist in guilt. _‘Mother and Father must have been so upset…’_ he thought, expression once more falling. Alma was conflicted though; a part of him struggled to feel pity for his parents, after learning of what they had concealed from him. Alma was still hurt and angry, but…  
  
Alma hadn’t wanted to hurt them, either.  
  
Closing his eyes, Alma pulled away from the window. His attention returned to the teases, before he lifted a finger up. One of the teases fluttered over, landing on Alma’s finger, its black wings shimmering in the dim lighting.  
  
Blinking, Alma looked at the tease. “Do you think I made a mistake?” he asked, voice soft.  
  
The tease didn’t respond, and only remained on Alma’s finger.  
  
Alma sighed, as he lowered his finger. “Guess it doesn’t really matter now…” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.  
  
The tease wisped into smoke before reappearing, as it flew over to one of the cliffrose blossoms on the windowsill.  
  
There was a knock on the door, which pulled Alma from his thoughts. Looking toward the door, Alma shifted as he got up from the divan. He imagined it was probably Lala, if anyone; since returning to the Underworld, Lala once more began tending to Alma, often checking on him and making sure he wasn’t in need of anything.   
  
Alma spoke, as he approached. “It’s open,” he said, as he pulled the handle of the door-  
  
Alma’s breath hitched as soon as he opened the door. Instead of Lala, it was Tyki.  
  
Surprise pooling in Alma’s eyes, Alma spoke. “Tyki?” he questioned, somewhat stunned. “I…I didn’t know you were back yet. I was looking out for you-“  
  
“Just got back a few minutes ago,” Tyki said, as his eyes caught Alma’s. “It okay if I come in?”  
  
Alma nodded, as he stepped aside so Tyki could come in. Shutting the door after Tyki had entered, Alma returned his attention to Tyki, his thoughts nervously beginning to spin.   
  
“What happened?” Alma asked, words tinged with anxiousness. “Did you see my family? What did the Order say? Is my soul still bound to here-“  
  
Alma quieted, as he felt Tyki’s hand cup the side of his face. Somewhat taken aback by the gentle touch, Alma found himself unable to continue, as his bright eyes met Tyki’s.  
  
Tyki looked down at Alma, his hand still holding Alma’s cheek. There was a peculiar look in his eyes – one that Alma couldn’t quiet describe. Tyki didn’t have a normal smirk on his face, or the usual glint that graced his irises. Instead, he appeared…_somber_.   
  
It worried Alma.  
  
Finally, Tyki released his hold on Alma, though he never once broke eye contact. “Your soul is still bound to the Underworld…that can’t be undone,” Tyki answered quietly.  
  
As Tyki said this, Alma’s face fell. He wasn’t sure why; Alma had _known_ what he had done. He had taken food from the Underworld, when he knew of the consequences. He had taken it, even when he knew it would keep him from returning to the above realm.  
  
Looking Alma, Alma gripped at his wrist. “Is my family angry with me…?” he asked, words small.  
  
Tyki frowned, as he noticed Alma’s reaction. “I doubt it. I think they’re more worried than anything,” he said. “Your mother asked me about how you were…”  
  
Alma turned back to Tyki somewhat sharply, as a penitent look gleamed in his eyes. But as swiftly as Alma had turned to Tyki, he looked away, walking over to the edge of the bed to sit down.  
  
Tyki watched Alma. From his vantage point, it almost appeared as though Alma were conflicted – as though he were fighting a plethora of emotions within himself. There was just such a lost and _sad_ look in his eyes – one that Tyki suspected may have been tinged with regret.  
  
Golden eyes softening, Tyki approached Alma. Kneeling down in front of him, Tyki took Alma’s hands, as he held them in Alma’s lap.   
  
Tyki took a small breath. “You can go see them in four months,” he said. “You can…see your family again.”  
  
Alma looked at Tyki, completely stunned. “What?” he questioned, not even sure if he had heard correctly. “I….but I thought I couldn’t leave…”  
  
Tyki paused, before he explained. “It’s not permanent. You’d only be able to stay for six months out of the year,” Tyki said, his eyes meeting Alma’s. “Since you took six seeds, the remaining six months you’d be here.”  
  
Alma stared. He was at a loss for words, as he attempted to process this information. Out of all the scenarios Alma had envisioned, he certainly hadn’t expected such a compromise – to spend half of the year in the Underworld, and half of the year in the above realm. To spend half of the year in darkness, and the other half in the light…  
  
Alma looked down, uncertain of what to say. _‘Six months…’_  
  
Tyki watched, as he continued to gage Alma’s reaction. He sighed. “Sorry…I know that outcome doesn’t exactly leave you with too many choices on what to do,” he offered. “It felt pretty shitty having to watch them all argue about you and you weren’t even there to say anything…”  
  
Tyki trailed off, as he felt Alma’s hand squeeze his. Gently, he felt Alma lean forward so his head was pressing against Tyki’s.  
  
“That’s…that’s okay,” Alma said, voice quiet. “I still got to make one decision…even if it was just the one…”  
  
Tyki didn’t say anything. He took one of his hands, and very tenderly brought it to the side of Alma’s head, as he allowed his fingers to run through Alma’s hair.   
  
“You sure you won’t regret it?” Tyki asked, words barely audible as his face remained downcast. “Stuck here, with all of the Noah…”  
  
Alma’s eyes shifted, as he looked at Tyki. Softly, he squeezed Tyki’s hand once more.  
  
“No,” Alma answered quietly. “No, I won’t regret it…”  
  
Tyki’s lips quirked upward, despite the situation. “Alright, Flower Boy,” he spoke. “Alright…”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything else, as he remained there on the edge of the bed, with Tyki kneeling before him as they held onto one another. The air still, the candles silently flickering…  
  
It didn’t matter what anyone said. It didn’t matter what anyone tried to tell him. Alma had known what he was doing. He had known the choice he was making.   
  
Alma had known the choice he was making. He didn’t know if it was right, or wrong. He didn’t know if it was best. But, it had been his choice. For once, it had been his.  
  
If anything, Alma didn’t regret that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it feels weird to post this. I started working on this fic in November 2018, and now it’s?? Here?? The last full chapter?? AAAAA WHAT. XD
> 
> Overall, I’m really happy with how this fic has developed. I always wanted the end result of Alma being in the Underworld for half of the year, with the other half being where he could see his family. There’s still a lot left to deal with though. Alma’s relationship with his family from this moment on will be pretty strained, and it was one of the reasons I wanted to end this chapter with him being fated to stay in the Underworld for another four months. Alma will need that time to come to terms with how he feels, and he’ll need that space (even if it means being in the Underworld for that time). On the other end of the spectrum, his family will also need time to reflect on what they’ve done.
> 
> There is a level of frustration with this still, in that Alma doesn’t really have full autonomy. He’s definitely more aware by this point, and is at where he wants to more actively make his own decisions - but in this fic that’s really stacked against him. (I will say, this is where I _have_ thought a bit more about what would happen if I ever wrote a sequel, or additional fics, since that whole topic is something I really want to explore further. Especially if the Noah are going to in any way teach Alma to harness some of that dark matter in his blood. >.>)
> 
> I also just couldn’t separate Tyki and Alma. So if anything, I wanted to end this chapter with the knowledge that those two will have time together - this story doesn’t have what I would call a happy ending exactly, but there is some comfort in knowing that they’re not alone and cut off from each other. It doesn’t mean it will be easy for them, but I genuinely feel they’re good for each other in this universe.
> 
> There’s still the epilogue coming up - so that’ll address some of the looser ends still hanging while also showing some of the aftermath for these events. 
> 
> Again, there’s still a lot I want to explore with this universe (the conflict between the Order and the Noah, the issue of how marked deities are treated, the relationship between Tyki and Alma and how that’ll develop, etc.) - so I’m hoping to get some more (smaller) fics written for this. Until then, I definitely would love for people to hunt me down to chat over things with. :3
> 
> The epilogue should be up some time next week! As always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. <3


	30. A Dark Flower

Ten months had passed, and nothing had changed in the Underworld.  
  
The darkness. The cold. Silence always loomed in the air, clinging to the gem-encrusted caverns and hanging over the hedge maze like a thick, velvety shroud. Often, the only thing heard was the slight, shrill wisp of a breeze, or a far off cry of some twisted, writhing soul. Maybe only a ghost, maybe an akuma…  
  
Road didn’t mind. She was used to it.  
  
Road hummed. She was sitting along the railing of a high balcony, her legs dangling in the air as she kicked about. elow, she spied the gardens in front of the castle; it was practically a bird’s eye view with how high up she was, with maze spiraling out into the distance like a coiled snake.  
  
Eyes lingering on the scenic view, Road shifted. She held onto the railing, grip tight as she swung her legs down – just as she allowed herself to hang on the outer edge of the balcony, her body dangerously close to falling.   
  
Despite this, not a trace of fear was visible in her expression, as she continued to hum softly.   
  
“You should probably get off of there.”  
  
Road blinked, as she turned to look back over her shoulder. Behind her, she could see Fiidora, having just walked onto the balcony.   
  
Road smiled. “You know I won’t fall,” she reminded him sweetly. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t kill me.”  
  
“Yeah, well, Sheril will feel a different way if he sees you,” Fiidora said, body slouched as he approached her.   
  
Road rolled her eyes, as she looked back onto the maze. “Sheril won’t notice,” she said, before a smile stretched back across her lips. “Not when Alma’s coming back today.”  
  
Fiidora walked closer to the railing, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the bannister. “Right…the Chang’s coming back,” he mused. “Have to that admit I’m still a bit surprised with how the situation turned out. I still don’t get why we didn’t use him as leverage to force them to lower the barrier. Sheril compromised pretty quickly…”  
  
Road glanced at Fiidora, eyes bright. She giggled. “The Order would never have allowed the Changs to lower the barrier – not even at the expense of one of their own,” she pointed out coolly. “But _this_ might change things…Alma already has started to lose trust in his family. And soon enough, he’ll see how the Order really is.”  
  
There was a pause, as Road looked forward once more. “Besides,” she added quietly. “He‘s already so close to Tyki…”  
  
Fiidora’s yellow eyes shifted to Road, before he looked forward as well. “Always thought that was a problem,” he commented. “But hey, whatever you guys decide I guess…”  
  
Road didn’t say anything else. She knew that not all of the Noah quite understood the decision of Lord Millennium, or even if it would have any payoff in the long run. Allowing Alma to return to his home for six months out of the year was certainly a liberal compromise; it was one that never would have been considered in most situations. Alma’s soul had been bound to the Underworld, and the Noah had no obligation to allow him to see his family again. Not ever.  
  
But, the Noah weren’t blind. They weren’t ones to miss an opportunity when it arose. Alma had willing taken the pomegranate seeds and bound himself – something he had done due to the betrayal of his own family. Already, the boy’s trust had been fractured, cracked apart like porcelain upon learning that he would inevitably be forced into a prison he did not want – a prison inflicted by the Order.  
  
As she thought about this, Road’s eyes gleamed. She doubted that Alma would be able to take the ill treatment received by the Order – the treatment that was always reserved for those who were _marked._ She doubted that he would be able to withstand the prejudice, and the pain that came with it all.  
  
Road also knew that Alma was bound to come running into Tyki’s arms the moment he returned.  
  
It wasn’t easy. Road didn’t like to share her family with outsiders, let alone Tyki – but, Tyki was already too attached to Alma to let ago. So much that Road had caught him multiple times staring at that silly orchid flower, with a wistful look in his eyes.  
  
If there was anything she hated more than sharing Tyki, it was seeing him in pain.  
  
Fingers curling onto the railing, Road watched. Soon, Alma would be returning to the Underworld.   
  
They would just have to keep their eyes on things, as the next few months unfolded.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Bak returned to the Acropolis, he felt heavy.   
  
There was no other way to describe it. He felt leaden, as though his lungs had been turned to stone and his shoulders were weighed by iron. Every step, ever movement – it was all strained. It was strained as Bak forced himself to enter into the citadel’s halls, and as he forced himself to refrain from looking back.  
  
Today. Today Alma was to return to the Underworld.  
  
Bak had gone to see him before, of course. There was no way he couldn’t; despite his duties with the Order being time consuming, Bak couldn’t allow himself to miss saying goodbye to his younger brother. Not when he would be unable to see him for another six months.  
  
Bak exhaled. _‘It feels like he just came back,’_ he thought, as he passed several guards in the corridor. _‘But he already has to go there again…’_  
  
It was strange. To Bak, it seemed as though Alma had only returned from the Underworld but days ago. He could still remember the event so clearly: his parents were anxiously awaiting Alma’s return, nearly beside themselves with impatience as they awaited Alma’s return at the citadel. Both Bak and Zuu had been there as well, equally shaken with anticipation. The Order had been clear in that Alma needed to be brought to the Acropolis first, and that his family would have to reunite with him there. After what had happened last time, the Order hadn’t wanted to risk any more slipups.  
  
Alma had been gone for such a long time, and no one knew how he would be upon returning. A few messages had been exchanged, yes, but it wasn’t the same – no one had seen Alma in months, and everyone’s concern was undeniable.  
  
When Alma had returned,there had definitely been changes.  
  
They weren’t glaring – not at first, anyways. They were seemingly smaller things. His normally sun-kissed hue was a bit paler, being depleted after months of being in the darkness. There was the strange, sometimes distant look in Alma’s eyes, or the way he spoke: slightly more assertive. Sharper.  
  
Then, there was the flower.  
  
Bak hadn’t noticed it at first – primarily because it had started off as nothing more than a small circle on the inner part of Alma’s left wrist. However, as the months drew on, a petal would appear. First one, then two – all until there were six petals, to mark when Alma would return to the Underworld.  
  
Bak realized that this marking was likely what allowed for Alma to leave the Underworld, despite his soul being bound.  
  
Bak exhaled. He refocused on the present moment, continuing down the corridor until he reached his destination: the observatory.  
  
Bak pushed the doors open, as he walked inside. The walls stretched up high, the ceiling crystal clear as the sky glistened above it. Despite it being daylight, ghostly impressions of stars and a few distant planets could be seen, fogged yet visible, as more concrete replicas hung above.  
  
Wong was in the observatory already. He was somewhat preoccupied, messing with what appeared to be a broken telescope. Wong glanced up though, quickly noticing Bak’s presence.  
  
“You’re back,” Wong said, as he set aside the telescope on a table. “I hadn’t realized you’d returned – I apologize for not coming to greet you.”  
  
Bak shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “I only just got back.”  
  
Wong nodded. He took note of Bak’s expression though, and small, sympathetic frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.   
  
“You saw your brother off,” Wong said, the words more a statement than a question.   
  
Bak exhaled, as he closed his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. “He hasn’t left yet,” he explained. “He will soon, though, if he hasn’t already.”  
  
Wong’s frown remained. “How did he seem?” he asked quietly. “I can imagine it must be a lot for him to deal with.”  
  
Bak didn’t say anything at first, as he looked off to the side. A somewhat pensive look remained on his face, as he recalled his interaction with Alma.   
  
“I’m not even sure,” Bak admitted. “He...he seemed _fine_, but…”  
  
Bak trailed off. He wasn’t even certain as to how to describe it. When he had visited Alma, Alma hadn’t actually appeared too distraught about returning to the

Underworld. He had been a bit quieter though, and a little distant – something that was certainly a contrast to how chatty Alma could be. He had been so strangely aloof, and there had been this odd look of _longing_ in his eyes…  
  
Bak just didn’t know.  
  
Looking back at Wong, another sigh escaped Bak. “He just hasn’t been the same ever since any of this started. Staying with the Noah, and now dealing with being marked.”  
  
Wong’s expression remained somber. “These last few months haven’t been easy,” he acknowledged. “Your brother has had a lot of upheaval with having to come to the Acropolis as often as he has.”  
  
Bak didn’t say anything. Wong was right; Alma _had_ experienced a lot of upheaval. When he had returned from the Underworld, Alma had barely had any time to adjust to being back, let alone process anything. All too quickly, the Order had swooped in, preventing Alma from engaging with his family for too long when initially returned. With being marked, it had just been too much of a risk to refrain from observing Alma, from keeping a close eye on him for the first few weeks of his return. Alma had been kept within the citadel walls as a result, occasionally given tests and trials to ensure that he was stable before he could finally be released to go back to his family’s estate – at least, until the Order felt a need to call him back.  
  
Truthfully, the whole situation had disturbed Bak.  
  
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like seeing his younger brother being repeatedly poked and prodded. It didn’t matter if it was protocol – Bak had seen clearly enough how unnerved the experience had made Alma, so much that there had been times that Bak had found Alma at his bedroom door at night, having somehow crept away to find some form of solace. It had been a painful thing to witness, and reminded Bak so much of how Alma had been as a small child: easily frightened, and timid.  
  
When Alma had finally been able to leave the Acropolis, Bak had been relieved.  
  
As these thoughts stewed within Bak, he spoke. “The Order still thinks he’s a threat because he was marked all of those years ago,” he spoke. “And they’re worried about him having so much contact with the Noah regularly.”  
  
Wong’s mouth remained in a tight line. “It is a bit concerning to think about him being somewhere where that dark matter could be triggered,” he acknowledged. “But, he did seem fine when he came here…”  
  
“He _was_ fine,” Bak said, as he looked back at Wong. “He was, but the Order is going to keep doing this. They’re going to keep bringing Alma back here to test how stable he is. And now they…”  
  
Bak’s words fell, and he averted his gaze.   
  
Wong looked at Bak curiously. A concerned gleam flickering in his eyes, Wong spoke. “What is it?”  
  
Bak took a breath, as he glanced back at Wong. “They want Alma to report to them about anything he finds out about what the Noah are planning. With the akuma appearances,” he explained. “Granted there haven’t been as many, but to use him like _that_…”  
  
Fist balling, Bak again trailed off. He just couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the thought of Alma being used in such a way – of being a means to an end, when he knew how the Order would treat him in the long run.  
  
Wong sighed. He took a step forward, as he placed a hand on Bak’s shoulder – a gentle, comforting gesture.   
  
“No one can know how things will turn out,” Wong said. “But Alma is strong. And he has you.”  
  
Bak didn’t say anything. He knew that Wong was trying to be comforting, but the efforts were in vain. Yes, Alma might have had Bak when he was at the Order, but Bak couldn’t actually protect him. Bak didn’t have that kind of power.   
  
But, if Wong was right about anything, it was that no one could know how things would turn out. No one could know how Alma would be during his time in the Underworld, let alone when he returned again.  
  
No one could do anything, except hope for the best.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The sky was bright and clear, and the air was warm.   
  
It was tranquilizing. There was a slight breeze that brushed across Alma’s skin, as the scent of wildflowers wafted against his nose. Gently, the sun’s heat beat down upon him, with its rays showering over him like a silken blanket of comfort. It was secure, and unyielding – a gossamer cloak of safety, which fell like a shroud over Alma’s whole being.  
  
He wouldn’t see the sun for six months after that day.  
  
Alma looked out, his gaze scanning the meadow. As he stared, he made an effort to remember as many of its details as possible: the brightly colored crocus flowers, the tall swaying grass. Alma wanted to carry that memory of the meadow as long as he could. He wanted to remember it while he was away.  
  
Fou approached Alma from behind. She had been a way’s back, never having left Alma unattended, but hadn’t uttered a word until just now. “You know Allen’s going to be here soon,” she pointed out. “You should go back to your parents before he comes – you won’t be able to see them for a while.”  
  
Alma turned, as he looked back at Fou. His eyes held a hint of hesitancy, but he turned away, nodding “Okay.”  
  
Fou didn’t say anything else, as she turned to start heading back. Alma did the same – but not before stealing one last glance at the meadow, the vast landscape stretching out before him.  
  
Quickly, Alma turned, as he caught up to Fou.  
  
The walk was made in silence – something that had since become a bit more common in the last few months. Alma still would talk to Fou, and make conversations; he hadn’t lost his tendency to chatter entirely, especially when something caught his interest. However, Alma had also become…somewhat more reserved, and lost in thought. Distant. Quiet.  
  
Alma hadn’t meant for this to happen. Honestly, a part of him wanted to push it away, and have things as they used to be: where he would prattle on endlessly, with not much of a care to be traced. Eagerly talking about seeing different places, and venturing out. Visiting Bak, and going to the Acropolis.  
  
A part of Alma wanted this to be, but he knew it couldn’t. Not anymore.  
  
As Fou walked on, Alma followed. Taking his left wrist, he glanced at it.  
  
On it, there was a flower: a dark flower, black and inky, with six petals fully encircling it.  
  
Alma released a small breath, as he lowered his hand.   
  
They soon returned to the estate grounds, the house coming into view. As Alma looked, he spotted both of his parents outside, standing on the veranda.  
  
With them, was Allen.  
  
Alma felt his heartbeat falter. He hadn’t realized that Allen would be there already.  
  
Twi’s eyes shifted, as she was the first to take note of Alma’s arrival. There was a somewhat strained look in her eyes – painful, like glass that had been freshly fractured. The rest of her expression remained carefully pieced together though, as she managed to keep her composure in place.  
  
Alma looked away from Twi, unable to make eye contact with his mother for too long.   
  
Edgar glanced over, as Alma and Fou approached. He smiled at Alma gently. “We were wondering where you went,” he said. There was a forced lightness to his words, as though Edgar were trying to diminish the gravity of the situation. However, the effort was in vain, as even his own words felt weighed down. “Allen just arrived.”  
  
Alma nodded, before he looked at Allen apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d come so soon…”  
  
Allen smiled kindly at Alma. “It’s alright,” he said. On his shoulder, his golem, Timcanpy, was perched. “Was there anything you needed to take with you?”  
  
Alma paused, as he thought. “Ah, yeah. Just a few things,” he said, before he shifted his gaze off to the side. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Allen didn’t say anything, as Alma quickly made his way back into the house, leaving everyone else outside. He hurried up the stairs as he found his way to his room, not even bothering to close the door as he entered inside.   
  
The room was clean, with the bed made and everything in order. However, on the bed there was a modestly sized bag, what of which Alma had already thrown a few things inside. Some clothing, a few books – they were things that Alma realized he probably didn’t actually _need_. He hadn’t taken anything the last time he had been in the Underworld, and probably would have been just fine without.  
  
But…something. Alma wanted to at least take something.  
  
On the bed, there was a himation. Although it was nice outside, Alma took it, clasping it over his shoulders. The Underworld would be cold when he arrived there.  
  
Grabbing his bag, Alma slung the strap over his shoulder. His eyes then wandered around his bedroom, as he glanced at it one last time. In doing this, Alma felt a slight pang in his chest – something small, yet sharp.  
  
_‘You’ll be back soon…’_ Alma told himself, as he turned to leave-  
  
Alma stilled. When he turned, he saw his mother was there.  
  
Alma felt his throat dry a bit, as he broke eye contact with Twi. A part of him felt guilty for doing so, and without understanding why, an apology started to spill from his lips. “Sorry, I’m coming now-“  
  
Twi shook her head. “It’s fine,” she said, before she glanced at Alma’s bag, noticing the small size. “Are you sure you have everything you need?”  
  
Alma nodded. “I don’t need to take much,” he said, as he chanced a glance at his mother. “The Noah…they’ll have things ready for me.”  
  
Twi’s lips pressed together, a slight frown threatening to tug at her lips.   
  
Alma didn’t miss the shift in expression, and he could feel something nip at his nerves. “I’ll be _fine_,” Alma tried to emphasize, as he looked at Twi with weary eyes. “I’ll…I’ll come back eventually, and I’ll mostly be with…”  
  
Alma’s voice trailed off, as his thoughts flashed to someone else – someone with long dark hair, and molten gold eyes.  
  
Twi’s eyes flickered to Alma. Even without Alma finishing, she had an inkling of who he was close to speaking of. She exhaled.   
  
Alma didn’t say anything, as he kept his gaze averted. Tension lingered in the space between them – tension that Alma couldn’t say he was foreign to. It had been this way ever since he had returned from the Underworld: awkward pauses, uneasy silences. They happened so frequently, and Alma _hated_ them…  
  
Yet, they continued.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. “I shouldn’t keep Allen waiting,” he said quietly, as he tried to move past his mother.  
  
A hand was placed over Alma’s wrist, causing him to pause. Somewhat caught off guard, he looked back toward his mother.  
  
Twi remained quiet. Her grasp remained on Alma’s hand, surprisingly tentative – it wasn’t particularly strong, or controlling. But gentle. Even apologetic.  
  
Twi’s eyes rested on Alma’s wrist, the dark flower on the inside of it stark as it marred Alma’s flesh. As she looked at it, something inside her cracked apart – something kissed by grief.  
  
“Please don’t think we kept it from you to hurt you,” Twi spoke, words soft.   
  
Alma froze, the words acidic in their delicacy. It was as though a knife as sliced into Alma’s heart, one that caused a fire to burn behind his eyes, threatening to push moisture forward as his heart twisted apart.  
  
In a knee-jerk reaction, Alma pulled his wrist from his mother’s grasp. It was a sharp movement, one that Alma hadn’t necessarily meant to do – but it was too late, and the damage had been done, the discomfort seeping in the room even more prominently than before.  
  
Vision hot, Alma quickly blinked his eyes, as he tried to will any unshed tears away. He only spared his mother a swift glance, just so that he caught the look on her face: weary, and guilt-ridden.  
  
Alma couldn’t look, and before anything could be said, he left the room, hurrying back downstairs before anything else could be said.   
  
As he did this, Alma could feel his own guilt festering. He shouldn’t have left his mother like that, when he was about to leave for six months. He shouldn’t have left when there was so much pain in her eyes, her remorse so evident that it was almost unbearable to see.  
  
He shouldn’t have left, yet he did. He left, because he could only think about how his family had hurt him.  
  
These thoughts wavered as Alma returned outside, his mind struggling to focus. Allen was still there with Edgar and Fou, and Alma quickly approached where they were. Just behind him, Alma heard his mother exit the house, though Alma tried to ignore the uncomfortable _pinch_ that he felt in his chest.  
  
Allen looked at Alma. “Ready?”  
  
Alma nodded.  
  
There were a few small goodbyes exchanged following that. Despite any past tensions, Alma shared a quick embrace with his father, and even did so with his mother. It was a bit uneasy; the interaction Alma had just shared with Twi was fresh in his mind, but Alma tried his best to ignore the ghostly discomfort as he hugged her.  
  
“I’ll be back soon,” Alma reminded her, as he pulled away.  
  
Twi nodded. She was just barely keeping her composure at this point, as she stood close to Edgar, who too looked as though he were struggling to watch the departure.  
  
Alma forced himself to turn away, as he and Allen took a few steps away from everyone. Allen spared Alma only a single glance, before he waved his hand, a slight rumble shaking the ground. Just before them, a crevice split open, with what appeared to be a set of stairs descending into the earth.  
  
Alma paused. Unable to stop himself, he glanced at his family one final time. Fou, his father, his mother…  
  
Without saying anything else, Alma turned back toward the crevice and followed Allen inside.  
  
There was a ripple of movement, and without even having to look Alma could feel the earth shift as the crevice shut behind him – taking away any trace of warmth or sunlight. Alma pushed on though, following Allen as they descended the stairs into the darkness of the Underworld.  
  
They continued on, through what was a cavern. There was no trace of light, save for Timcanpy; the golem flew a bit ahead of the two deities, its body illuminated in a gentle, golden glow to light the way. It guided them, bringing them to what appeared to be the exit of the tunnel.  
  
Allen turned to Alma. “I’ll open a door – it’ll take us directly to the castle.”  
  
Alma nodded. By now, he was familiar with their routine.  
  
Allen turned forward and waved his hand through the air. Slowly, a tear of light split through it, widening until a portal formed for them to step through.  
  
Once completed, Alma followed Allen into the door.  
  
They crossed through it: a hall of light, iridescent and gleaming. Colors shifting. Shapes blurring. Once, Alma would have been too mesmerized to focus on anything but the kaleidoscope of lights. But now…  
  
Now, he could only think of moving forward.  
  
They soon came to the exit, where Allen stepped out. Taking a breath, Alma followed.  
  
The change in atmosphere was instantaneous. Alma shuddered, as a frosty gust of air encircled him, his body soon encompassed by darkness. Blinking, he struggled to see; once again, he had become so used to daylight, that the darkness was nearly blinding. Alma strained to see where anything was, though within a few seconds, shapes started to form: a stone fountain, a garden…  
  
The castle.  
  
Allen looked over at Alma. “I’ll walk you to the doors,” he offered.  
  
Alma didn’t argue, as he allowed Allen to do so.   
  
The walk was short, and the air silent. Alma couldn’t help but take in the sight of the nocturnal garden though, his eyes once more skimming every detail. It was strange how familiar it suddenly seemed – so much that a peculiar nudge nipped at Alma, one that once more tinged his core with an unexplainable longing.  
  
_“Want to go outside, Flower Boy?”_  
  
Alma’s heart twisted sharply, his stomach flipping in anticipation. Soon. Soon he’d see…  
  
There was the sound of one of the doors opening, heavy and creaking. Alma looked up, as the noise broke through the silence like a crack of glass-  
  
Alma’s heart caught in his throat, as soon as he saw Tyki.  
  
He looked the same as the last time as Alma had seen him. Dark hair loosely pulled back, sharp golden eyes. He even had the same languid posture that Alma had grown so used to, and that so very alluring half-smile on his face…  
  
Allen stopped walking, as he glanced at Alma. “Looks like someone was waiting for you.”   
  
Alma didn’t say anything, his heart thudding in his chest. _‘Tyki…’  
  
_Noticing Alma’s expression, Allen spoke softly. “I’ll bring any messages sent for you,” he spoke. “I’m pretty sure I’ll see you before six months is up.”  
  
Alma turned to Allen, and nodded. He remained quiet, as looked back toward where Tyki was.  
  
Without saying anything more, Alma ran to Tyki.  
  
Tyki stepped out from the doors, just as Alma threw his arms around Tyki. He returned the gesture immediately, as he locked Alma into an embrace, pulling him close.  
  
Tyki ran his hand through Alma’s hair. “Was wondering when you’d show up,” he spoke, lips still tugged into a small smirk. He pulled back, his gaze meeting Alma’s as they burned like two pieces of ember, warm and beckoning. “It’s been a while.”  
  
Alma almost couldn’t even say anything. His eyes were entrapped by Tyki’s, like a moth entranced by a flame. He just couldn’t look away from his eyes – not when they were the very eyes that Alma had thought of for the last six months. Not when he was finally looking at the very face that he had been longing to see, ever since he returned to the above realms…  
  
Still holding Alma’s gaze, Tyki took a step back toward the doors, as he held a hand out to him. “Well?” Tyki asked, words gentle. “You want to come inside?”  
  
Alma blinked, the words helping to snap him from his daze. Focus shifting, Alma’s attention flickered to Tyki’s hand.  
  
A beat passed, and Alma took it, his fingers locking into Tyki’s. His gaze meeting Tyki’s once more, something warm fluttered in his chest, his words soft as he spoke.  
  
“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it!!! ;__;
> 
> Really, I’m sort of in disbelief that this is finally up. This is officially the longest fic I have ever written (229K - LIKE WHAT?? XD), and considering I started writing in June/July and finished drafting this in December I’m pretty shocked that I somehow pulled this off. It was just one of those stories that I had always wanted to write, but never knew if I’d be able to - so I’m really stoked to be at this point!
> 
> Hopefully, this epilogue wrapped up some of the loose ends left from the last chapter. I wanted to do a big enough time skip to touch on all that had happened in that time and what some of the fallout from the events were like. The biggest things were of course Alma’s transition between the Underworld and the above realms, and this identity he now has as being marked. With this story in particular, I know it wasn’t heavily explored just how marked deities are treated, and only hinted at - but I think from this epilogue is clear as to how unpleasant it is. (Regarding future one-shots, I would like to explore it - I just have to prepare myself because it’s definitely angst heavy content.)
> 
> Another thing is the relationships between the characters - namely Alma and his family. The idealistic part of me wishes that that trust could be repaired, but it likely won’t be any time soon. The only family member that Alma ever will trust is Bak, and that’s because Bak was also left in the dark like Alma was. >.<
> 
> There is a part of me that has tossed a sequel around, though if I did it then it wouldn’t be for a while. XD (Until then, one-shots though!!!) If people ever want to ask more about it or hear my thoughts, I’d love to share! It’d of course focus on Tyki and Alma, but also this dual role Alma has in how he’s being used (by both the Order and Noah), because, well...that’s essentially is what’s happening. Alma may be marked, but he’s now an asset to the Order, but the Noah view him as valuable as well (ex. namely his relationship with Tyki - which, ahaha, would definitely develop into a thing. >.>) 
> 
> Anyways, I will stop rambling now. But thank you to those of you who read, and special thanks to KittyBandit for being so amazingly supportive and encouraging to me as I worked on this story! <3


End file.
